The Poems and Prose Remains of Arthur Hugh Clough/Volume 2/A Song of Autumn
A SONG OF AUTUMN.
My wind is turned to bitter north,
That was so soft a south before ;
My sky, that shone so sunny bright,
With foggy gloom is clouded o'er :
My gay green leaves are yellow-black,
Upon the dank autumnal floor;
For love, departed once, comes back
No more again, no more.
A roofless ruin lies my home,
For winds to blow and rains to pour ;
One frosty night befell, and lo,
I find my summer days are o'er :
The heart bereaved, of why and how
Unknowing, knows that yet before
It had what e'en to Memory now
Returns no more, no more.