Trancelike the mellow air doth hold
The sorrow of the passing year;
The heart of Nature groweth cold,
The time of falling snow is near;
On phantom feet, which none may hear,
Creeps with the shadow of the hill
The semblance of departed cheer,
But beauty s soul abideth still.
The dead, gray-clustered weeds enfold
The well-known summer path, and drear
The dusking hills, like billows rolled
Against the distant sky, appear.
From lonely haunts, where Night and Fear
Keep ghostly tryst, when mists are chill,
The dark pine lifts a jagged spear,
But beauty s soul abideth still.
ENVOY
Dear love, the days that once were dear May come no more: life may fulfill Her fleeting dreams with many a tear, But beauty s soul abideth still.
FRANK LEBBY STANTON
[Frank Lebby Stan ton was born in Charleston, South Carolina, in 1857. He has served various newspapers, but seems finally to have associated himself with the Atlanta Constitution. To this paper he has for several years past contributed a column daily of verses and short sketches. In this way his poems have become familiar to newspaper readers and are widely popular.]
