Opals (Custance)/A Lament for the Leaves
A Lament for the Leaves
The trees look sad—sad—I long for the leaves,
Green leaves that shimmer—and shelter the nests that the song-birds make.
The earth is glad—glad—but my spirit grieves.
Break forth from your buds and awake
O! leaves!
Green leaves that shimmer—and shelter the nests that the song-birds make.
The earth is glad—glad—but my spirit grieves.
Break forth from your buds and awake
O! leaves!
I remember the woods last year and the thick fresh leaves
How they fluttered and flickered and sighed, rustled and quivered all day. . . .
I almost fancy I hear their song to the breeze,
The fickle breeze that faltered and wavered, but would not stay.
I long for the leaves!
How they fluttered and flickered and sighed, rustled and quivered all day. . . .
I almost fancy I hear their song to the breeze,
The fickle breeze that faltered and wavered, but would not stay.
I long for the leaves!
I remember the sun-laced grass, where their shadows were flung
In a tangled web as they trembled—trembled a-tilt on the bough,
Now! they are fallen, alas! from the trees where they hung,
Withered, wind-wafted away. . . . O! where are they now,
The leaves?
In a tangled web as they trembled—trembled a-tilt on the bough,
Now! they are fallen, alas! from the trees where they hung,
Withered, wind-wafted away. . . . O! where are they now,
The leaves?