In sunny spots of woodland, boys are gathering walnuts, and shouting, Roaming with unchecked freedom, where the tall trees stand about; Now, with sturdy sticks, they quicken the clustered nuts down from the branches, While the brown nuts come showering down, in rustling showers to the ground. Yet there mingles a melancholy with the heart's exhilaration, As we tread the rustling leaves, with a sound so like to the dead, Looking up with a shiver at the wintry sky, so gray and clouded, With a feeling of sad unrest, with a sigh for the summer fled. Now the cricket's chirping sweetly, from among the withered grasses, Chirping cheerily, cheerily, so faintly and far away, Pity, that the frosty night will so soon stop their music! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ISN'T IT ROMANTIC by KAREN SWENSON A MAN TO A WOMAN by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS TRAFALGAR SQUARE by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES THE PRINCESS; A MEDLEY by ALFRED TENNYSON THE FIDDLER OF DOONEY by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS TRANSFIGURATION by LOUISA MAY ALCOTT A SHADOW OF THE NIGHT by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |