Alfred Austin (Альфред Остин)

Unseasonable Snows

The leaves have not yet gone; then why do ye come,
O white flakes falling from a dusky cloud?
But yesterday my garden-plot was proud
With uncut sheaves of ripe chrysanthemum.
Some trees the winds have stripped; but look on some,
'Neath double load of snow and foliage bowed,
Unnatural winter fashioning a shroud
For Autumn's burial ere its pulse be numb.
Yet Nature plays not an inhuman part:
In her, our own, vicissitudes we trace.
Do we not cling to our accustomed place,
Though journeying Death have beckoned us to start?
And faded smiles oft linger in the face,
While grief's first flakes fall silent on the heart! 

1. Why England Is Conservative
2. Wardens Of The Wave
3. Wordsworth At Dove Cottage
4. Primacy of Mind
5. The Death Of Huss

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1878

Последние стихотворения

To English version