HAS it come, the time to fade? And with a murmur'd sigh, The Maple, in his scarlet robe, Was the first to make reply; And the queenly Dahlias droop'd Upon their thrones of state, The frost-king, with his baleful kiss, Had well forestall'd their fate. Hydrangia, on her telegraph A hurried signal trac'd Of dire and dark conspiracy That Summer's realm menac'd; Then quick the proud exotic peers, In consternation fled, And refuge in their green-house sought Before the day of dread. The vine that o'er my casement climb'd And cluster'd day by day, I count its leaflets every morn, See, how they fade away; And, as they withering one by one Forsake their parent tree, I call each sere and yellow leaf, A buried friend to me. Put on thy mourning, said my soul, And with a tearful eye, Walk softly 'mid the many graves, Where thy companions lie. The violet, like a loving babe, When vernal suns were new, That met thee with a soft, blue eye, And lips all bath'd in dew, The lily, as a timid bride, While summer suns were fair, That put her snowy hand in thine, To bless thee for thy care, The trim and proud anemone, The daisy from the vale, The purple lilac towering high To guard his sister pale, The ripen'd rose, where are they now? But from the rifled bower A voice came forth "take heed to note Thine own receding hour, And let the strange and silver hair That o'er thy forehead strays Be as a monitor, to tell The autumn of thy days." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HURRAHING IN HARVEST by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS MORAL ESSAYS: EPISTLE 4. TO RICHARD BOYLE, EARL BURLINGTON by ALEXANDER POPE AN OLD WOMAN: 1 by EDITH SITWELL A PICTURE AT NEWSTEAD by MATTHEW ARNOLD GHOST-BEREFT; A SCENE FROM BOGLAND IN WAR-TIME by JANE BARLOW S. MATTHIAS by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |