I WAS the acorn that fell From the autumn bough In the warm earth to dwell; I grew to a branch somehow And I waved in the nightly storm And sheltered the kine When the hills were yellow and warm With the noon divine I too 'mid the sheathing moss Felt the axe's blow And fell with a thunderous loss Of the stars I know And the clouds that sift no more Through my shattered limbs, Save where the hearthstones roar And the dying ember dims. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YOUNG BLOOD by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET GUARDIANSHIP by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SEPARATION by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SPRINGTIDE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO JOHN BROWN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON WHEN I AM DEAD by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO MY CLASS: ON CERTAIN FRUITS AND FLOWERS SENT ... SICKNESS by SIDNEY LANIER |