Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SHE DREAMS OF AUTUMN, by EDWARD HEYMAN PFEIFFER


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

SHE DREAMS OF AUTUMN, by                    
First Line: I dreamed that the children were gathering leaves
Last Line: Down. . . .
Subject(s): Autumn; Seasons; Fall


I dreamed that the children were gathering leaves
In our old town.
Autumn was shaking them from the trees,
Down. . . .
down. . . .
down. . . .
(The children sing:)
"Autumn, autumn, fling us down your golden leaves.
Send the maples' arms a-shaking, make their fingers fling
Right and left and all about, high and low and under them,
Coins of gold that jingle while we dance and sing!

"Autumn, autumn, see us children gathering
Leaves with golden points that gleam like sunbeams overhead.
We are sweeping, we are heaping leaves and leaves and more of them.
They come skipping down the street . . . Who says that they are dead?"

"Children! Children!"
"Mothers, we are listening."
"Pile the leaves up neatly now, and we shall make a fire." --
("Are they really dead, mother, all these golden running leaves?")
"We shall do as we are told and pile them higher, higher."
"Mother!" "Mother!" "Look, the heaps are ready now!"
"All right! Sing again. We'll bring the matches soon."
"Autumn, autumn, here are all your golden leaves!
"See their golden fingers that go fumbling for the moon!

"Autumn, autumn, see, we light the golden fires;
Carefully we hold the matches, watch the busy flame
Pour among the golden leaves like silent golden water-streams.
Just now, a blue smoke from out the gold-heap came!

"Autumn, autumn! Smell the leaves, the burning leaves.
They are golden flowers now. Their perfume fills the air!
See, the curling smoke of them! See, the sky-blue breath of them!
Every pile is singing as we dance around the glare.

"Autumn, autumn! Thank you for your golden leaves.
Thank you for the golden flames -- the burning golden hours!
Autumn, autumn! Thank you for the golden sun!
Thank you for the golden leaves that swell to golden flowers!

"And see us, see us! dancing round the golden heaps,
Singing, hand in hand, a-whirl, a mist before us spread.
Fling us down your golden leaves, your children that have drunk the sun,
Whose golden light turns golden flame, who never can be dead!"

I have wakened. . . . The children are dancing still
In our old town. . . .
The dream is over, and life comes fluttering
Down. . . .
down. . . .
down. . . .





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