Scarlet and gold the leaves are turning, And gray are the days, for the year is old, And chill is the heart, for the ways are cold, While the year lies low with its death-lights burning. Chill as the snow, the north wind spurning, Shudders the dusk when the dawns unfold; Scarlet and gold the leaves are turning, And gray are the days, for the year is old. And the wildwood sings with a voice of mourning, And the wood-bird wings to a new freehold; And a dream of the June, like a tale new-told, Dimmeth the eyes with a mist of yearning. Scarlet and gold the leaves are turning, And gray are the days, for the year is old. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHITE NOCTURNE by CONRAD AIKEN THE WHITE PEACOCK by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET WISDOM COMETH WITH THE YEARS by COUNTEE CULLEN GLAMOUR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON STUDY FOR A GEOGRAPHICAL TRAIL; 3. WASHINGTON, D.C. by CLARENCE MAJOR |