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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
NOVEMBER, by DAVID HARTLEY COLERIDGE Poet Analysis Poet's Biography
First Line: The mellow year is hasting to its close
Last Line: Wrap their old limbs with somber ivy twine.
Alternate Author Name(s): Coleridge, Hartley
Subject(s): November
First Line: The mellow year is hasting to its close
Last Line: Wrap their old limbs with somber ivy twine.
Alternate Author Name(s): Coleridge, Hartley
Subject(s): November
The mellow year is hasting to its close;
The little birds have almost sung their last,
Their small notes twitter in the dreary blast --
That shrill-piped harbinger of early snows:
The patient beauty of the scentless rose,
Oft with the morn's hoar crystal quaintly glassed,
Hangs, a pale mourner for the summer past,
And makes a little summer where it grows:
In the chill sunbeam of the faint brief day
The dusky waters shudder as they shine,
The russet leaves obstruct the straggling way
Of oozy brooks, which no deep banks define,
And the gaunt woods, in ragged, scant array,
Wrap their old limbs with somber ivy twine.
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