The Change

Last year I heard the songs of birds,
And heard the trumpets of the bees.
I caught the winding river's words,
And clutched at leaves of trees.

I heard the gales upon the height;
And heard each frightened windy rush,
I lay within the sultry night,
Eaves-dropping in the bush.

But now I walk within a town,
And hear the slyness of its feet.
Great cruel things stride up and down
Within a shady street.

I see quick things with ugly nails,
And hear their low half-smothered cries.
I hear men tell strange trembling tales
With big beseeching eyes.

I do not hear the singing bough.
I hear soft murders in a lane,
I do not feel the bush-call, now
I feel my brother's pain.

Poem topics: , , , , ,

Rate this poem:

Add The Change poem to your favorites

Add Poet Leon Gellert to your favorites

Similar Poems
There is no similar poems related to "The Change" poem.
All Leon Gellert Poems

Popular Poets

Muna Lee (1 poems)
Lizette Woodworth Reese (29 poems)
Charles Stuart Calverley (5 poems)
Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva (2 poems)
Henry Rowe (2 poems)
William Drummond (15 poems)
Edgar Allan Poe (62 poems)
Anna Swirszczynska (6 poems)
Joseph Rodman Drake (19 poems)
Thomas Otway (1 poems)

Popular Poems

Joy, by Sara Teasdale
Sir Thomas Wortley's Sonnet Answered, by Richard Lovelace
L'en-avant, by Emile Verhaeren
In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: Part 070, by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Xxii: The Sloe Was Lost In Flower, by Alfred Edward Housman
Psalm 07, by John Milton
The Necessity Of A New Heart, by John Bunyan
Petrus, Paulus og Johannes, by Nicolaj Frederik Severin Grundtvig
A Poem Sacred To The Memory Of Sir Isaac Newton, by James Thomson
London Types: Drum-Major, by William Ernest Henley