Behold, the fleeting swallow Forsakes the frosty air; And leaves, alert to follow, Are falling everywhere, Like wounded birds, too weak A distant clime to seek. And soon, with silent pinions, The fledglings of the north From winter's wild dominions Shall drift affrighted forth, And, phantom-like, anon Pursue the phantoms gone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FOUNTAIN (2) by SARA TEASDALE SOMEBODY'S DARLING by MARIE LA CONTE NO LONGER COULD I DOUBT HIM TRUE by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR TO A DOG by JOSEPHINE PRESTON PEABODY THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: NOVEMBER by EDMUND SPENSER THE ICE CAGE by JAMES METHVEN BALLANTYNE LINES ADAPTED TO A FAVOURITE MILITARY AIR by JAMES HAY BEATTIE |