Classic and Contemporary Poetry
FABLE: 16, by ANTOINE VINCENT ARNAULT First Line: Thou poor leaf, so sear and frail Last Line: Glory's laurel, beauty's rose. | ||||||||
THOU poor leaf, so sear and frail, Sport of every wanton gale, Whence and whither dost thou fly Through this bleak autumnal sky? -- On a noble oak I grew, Green and broad, and fair to view; But the monarch of the shade By the tempest low was laid. From that time, I wander o'er Wood and valley, hill and moor, Wheresoe'er the wind is blowing, Nothing caring, nothing knowing; Thither go I whither goes Glory's laurel, Beauty's rose. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LEAF by ANTOINE VINCENT ARNAULT THE SNAIL by ANTOINE VINCENT ARNAULT THE LANDSCAPE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE LAST REDOUBT by ALFRED AUSTIN TO HIS FORSAKEN MISTRESS by ROBERT AYTON THE PAST by RALPH WALDO EMERSON THE HERONS OF ELMWOOD by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE SURPRISE AT TICONDEROGA [MAY 10, 1775] by MARY ANNA PHINNEY STANSBURY |
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