Thou blossom bright with autumn dew,
And colored with the heaven’s own blue,
That openest when the quiet light
Succeeds the keen and frosty night,
Thou comest not when violets lean
O’er wandering brooks and springs unseen,
Or columbines, in purple dressed,
Nod o’er the ground-bird’s hidden nest.
Thou waitest late and com’st...
So all day long I followed through the fields
The voice of Autumn, calling from afar;
And now I thought: “Yon hazel thicket yields
A glimpse of her,” and now: “These asters are
Sure sign that she of late has passed this way;
Lo! here the traces of her yellow car.”
And once I looked and seemed to see her stand
Beneath a golden...
Thou blossom, bright with autumn dew,
And colored with the heaven’s own blue,
That openest when the quiet light
Succeeds the keen and frosty night;
Thou comest not when violets lean
O’er wandering brooks and springs unseen,
Or columbines, in purple dressed,
Nod o’er the ground-bird’s hidden nest.
Thou waitest late, and com’st...
Distrustful of the Gentian —
And just to turn away,
The fluttering of her fringes
Chid my perfidy —
Weary for my —————
I will singing go —
I shall not feel the sleet — then —
I shall not fear the snow.
Flees so the phantom meadow
Before the breathless Bee —...
The Gentian weaves her fringes —
The Maple's loom is red —
My departing blossoms
Obviate parade.
A brief, but patient illness —
An hour to prepare,
And one below this morning
Is where the angels are —
It was a short procession,
The Bobolink was there —
...
