Poet's hand has placed thee there,
Autumn's brown and withered scroll!
Though to outward eye not fair,
Thou hast beauty for the soul,
Though no human pen has traced
On that leaf its learned lore,
Love divine the page has graced,-
What can words discover more?
Not alone dim Autumn's blast
Echoes from yon tablet sear,-
Distant music of the Past
Steals upon the poet's ear.
Voices sweet of summer hours,
Spring's soft whispers murmur by;
Feathered songs from leafy bowers
Draw his listening soul on high.
Lines To A Withered Leaf Seen On A Poet's Table
Jones Very
(1)
Poem topics: alone, beauty, music, spring, summer, human, sweet, brown, discover, high, divine, soft, scroll, autumn, love, I love you, soul, poet, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about Lines To A Withered Leaf Seen On A Poet's Table poem by Jones Very
Best Poems of Jones Very