THE heavy drops on the canna's leaf Linger a moment ere they fall, Spattering on the mould beneath. The spider's web by the crumbling wall Scarce bears on its fine-spun silken guys The strain of its trembling burden's weight. From the sodden earth gray mists arise, Enshrouding the trees with a ghostly state. The blossoms droop on their curving stalks; The bedraggled birds on the sinking boughs Sit silent and shiv'ring; the gravel walks Are muddy streams between bordering sloughs Of tangled grass and pasty earth. Nature lies resting under a pall Ere in the beauty and strength of new birth She rises to answer the bright sun's call. |