I would some year my life were like this day -- This autumn day, when but a few remain Before cold flakes descend upon the plain -- A revery with face turned back to May. The crops are harvested and stored away, The leaves are shed; amid the stubble grain The bonfires smoke, like incense in a fane, A cleansing rite the fertile furrows pay. Earth's labor done, before December snows, These last warm days turn back to merry Spring And dream along the fragrant path they came. Happy the life that pausing at its close, Can smile upon the past without a sting, And smiling turn to pay death's wintry claim. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INSCRIPTION FOR THE ENTRANCE TO A WOOD by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT DELIGHT IN DISORDER by ROBERT HERRICK THE SONG OF HIAWATHA: HIAWATHA'S FASTING by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE PITY OF THE LEAVES by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON HUMAN IGNORANCE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH GREAT BRITTAINES SUNNES-SET by WILLIAM BASSE THE STEPS OF THE COMMANDER by ALEXANDER (ALEKSANDR) ALEXANDROVICH BLOK |