An upper chamber in a darkened house,
Where, ere his footsteps reached ripe manhood’s brink,
Terror and anguish were his cup to drink,—
I cannot rid the thought, nor hold it close;
But dimly dream upon that man alone;—
Now though the autumn clouds most softly pass;
The cricket chides beneath the doorstep stone,
And greener than the season grows the grass.
Nor can I drop my lids, nor shade my brows,
But there he stands beside the lifted sash;
And with a swooning of the heart, I think
Where the black shingles slope to meet the boughs,
And—shattered on the roof like smallest snows—
The tiny petals of the mountain-ash.
(Frederick Goddard Tuckerman)
More Poetry from Frederick Goddard Tuckerman:
Frederick Goddard Tuckerman Poems based on Topics: Mind, Sadness, Thought & Thinking, Autumn- His heart was in his garden... (Frederick Goddard Tuckerman Poems)
- Thin little leaves of wood fern, ribbed and toothed (Frederick Goddard Tuckerman Poems)
- Dank fens of cedar... (Frederick Goddard Tuckerman Poems)
- Sometimes I walk where the deep water dips (Frederick Goddard Tuckerman Poems)
- Under the mountain... (Frederick Goddard Tuckerman Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Mind Poems, Sadness Poems, Thought & Thinking Poems, Autumn PoemsBased on Keywords: and-, shingles, chides, doorstep, mountain-ash, drink-, snows-