AN AUTUMN PLAINT. [Nov. 



AN AUTUMN PLAINT. 

 aOW dreary are these skies, heart ! 

 The woods how wild and wan ! 

 Swift swallows for the South start — 



Stern Winter presses on. 

 Alas ! my heart, the blast's breath 



Hath chilled thee, and aghast 

 Thou broodesfc o'er the sad death 



Of joys too bright to last ! 

 No more for thee the fond dreams 



That came at twilight time ; 

 No more Hope's false, yet fair, gleams 



That made the morn sublime : 

 No more the flush of joy, heart. 



That shed its rosy glow 

 Through all thy quiet depths, heart. 



When vernal blooms did blow. 

 The gloom that shrouds all mute things 



Hath surely spread to thee : 



Close curtained by the dark wings 



Of woe — Ah, me ! Ah, me ! 

 ***** 



In Memory's tablets are many leaves, 



And some of them fair and green 

 As those from whose tresses bright June weaves 



A shield from the Sun-God's sheen : 

 Some may be blotted with bitter tears, 



That tarniah the tale they told 

 Of the bygone scenes of those fairy years 



When earth was of virgin gold. 

 But the page so fair to the youthful eyes 



Shrinks under Time's tonic test, 

 And blackens slowly, like sullen skies, 



When the Storm-King brews unrest. 

 There is a leaf that I would were bright 



As it was when the roses blushed : 

 There is a heart that I would were light ; 



But the voice of Hope is hushed ! 

 From Memory's tablet I tear that leaf — 



There shall it have no part ; 

 I snatch it out of that secret sheaf, 



Oat of my aching heart 1 



F. B. D0Y£T03f. 



