Let me give something!--as the years unfold, Some faint fruition, though not much, my most: Perhaps a monument of labor lost. But thou, who givest all things, give not me To sink in silence, seared with early cold, Frost-burnt and blackened, but quick fire for frost! As once I saw at a houseside, a tree Struck scarlet by the lightning, utterly To its last limb and twig: so strange it seemed, I stopped to think if this indeed were May, And were those windflowers? or had I dreamed? But there it stood, close by the cottage eaves, Red-ripened to the heart: shedding its leaves And autumn sadness on the dim spring day. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MASK by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING DIBDIN'S GHOST by EUGENE FIELD VASHTI by FRANCES ELLEN WATKINS HARPER A QUOI BON DIRE by CHARLOTTE MEW ANTHEM FOR DOOMED YOUTH by WILFRED OWEN A FINE DAY ON LOUGH SWILLY by WILLIAM ALEXANDER (1824-1911) |