|
|
|
Classic and Contemporary Poetry
NOVEMBER, by ALEXANDER LOUIS FRASER
First Line: Each sapless leaf that lingers here
Last Line: These make amends!
Subject(s): Death; Graves; Mourning; November; Wind; Dead, The; Tombs; Tombstones; Bereavement
First Line: Each sapless leaf that lingers here
Last Line: These make amends!
Subject(s): Death; Graves; Mourning; November; Wind; Dead, The; Tombs; Tombstones; Bereavement
Each sapless leaf that lingers here
Where bare woods mourn
Shall soon upon Wind's silvery bier
Be gravewards borne.
The bees have left our honey-bowers,
The birds are fled;
And 'neath the blight of frost our flowers
Have fallen—dead!
Yon meadow now, where grass grew green,
No grazing yields:
No bells are heard, no flocks are seen
In far, fenced fields.
Where children played till all the ground
Was wet with dew,
Autumn, to-day, with threatening sound
Snow trumpets blew.
Fear not November's challenge bold—
We've books and friends;
And hearths that never can grow cold:
These make amends!
Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!
Other Poems of Interest...
HUNGERFIELD by ROBINSON JEFFERS
THE MOURNER by LOUISE MOREY BOWMAN
HECUBA MOURNS by MARILYN NELSON
THERE IS NO GOD BUT by AGHA SHAHID ALI
IF I COULD MOURN LIKE A MOURNING DOVE by FRANK BIDART
A CHILD'S GRAVE by ALEXANDER LOUIS FRASER