‘Tis Autumn–and the winds are high
And storm–clouds scud across the sky;
The yellow groves on Dee’s dark side
Grow paler each approaching tide,
As though they feared the rising waves
Would sweep them to untimely graves.
No flowers are now with dew–lit eye
To lure the light breeze loitering by;
No roses shed their rich perfume
From hearts just hid in sweets and gloom;
But barren stem and withered leaf
Are all that’s left for love and grief.
Behind yon hills which fence the west
The sun sets on the sea’s wild breast;
Not as in summer time he went
A warrior to his crimson tent,
While all the glory of the world
Stood waving like a flag unfurled
Around him, as the bright one bowed,
And laid him on a golden cloud;
But wan and weary, sick and dim,
He dies, and Heaven seems nought to him:–
So glares the dying on the dead,
Stretched upon battle’s gory bed.
The clouds careering swift on high
In continents o’erspread the sky;
And mists come reeking up the plain,
And pattering quick the chilling rain,
And sullen Mo
(Philip James Bailey)
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Based on Topics: World Poems, Light Poems, Sadness Poems, Death & Dying Poems, Flowers Poems, Success Poems, Summer Poems, Grief PoemsBased on Keywords: dew-lit, autumn-and