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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

I AM THE AUTUMNAL SUN by HENRY DAVID THOREAU

Poet Analysis

Last Line: Is the constant music of my grief
Subject(s): AUTUMN; SUN; GRIEF;
I am the autumnal sun,
With autumn gales my race is run;
When will the hazel put forth its flowers,
Or the grape ripen under my bowers?
When will the harvest or the hunter's moon,
Turn my midnight into mid-noon?
And to my core mellow.
The winter is lurking within my moods,
And the rustling of the withered leaf
Is the constant music of my grief.



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