Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, NOVEMBER, by ELIZABETH DREW (BARSTOW) STODDARD


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

NOVEMBER, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Much have I spoken of the faded leaf
Last Line: The loss of beauty is not always loss!
Alternate Author Name(s): Stoddard, Richard, Mrs.


MUCH have I spoken of the faded leaf;
Long have I listened to the wailing wind,
And watched it ploughing through the heavy clouds,
For autumn charms my melancholy mind.

When autumn comes, the poets sing a dirge:
The year must perish; all the flowers are dead;
The sheaves are gathered; and the mottled quail
Runs in the stubble, but the lark has fled!

Still, autumn ushers in the Christmas cheer,
The holly-berries and the ivy-tree:
They weave a chaplet for the Old Year's bier,
These waiting mourners do not sing for me!

I find sweet peace in depths of autumn woods,
Where grow the ragged ferns and roughened moss;
The naked, silent trees have taught me this, --
The loss of beauty is not always loss!





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