The leaves are falling; so am I;
The few late flowers have moisture in the eye;
So have I too.
Scarcely on any bough is heard
Joyous, or even unjoyous, bird
The whole wood through.
Winter may come: he brings but nigher
His circle (yearly narrowing) to the fire
Where old friends meet.
Let him; now heaven is overcast,
And spring and summer both are past,
And all things sweet.
Late Leaves
Walter Savage Landor
(1)
Poem topics: fire, heaven, spring, summer, winter, bird, sweet, circle, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about Late Leaves poem by Walter Savage Landor
Best Poems of Walter Savage Landor