Poems (Jackson)/Asters and Golden-Rod

by Helen Hunt Jackson

ASTERS AND GOLDEN ROD.

KNOW the lands are lit
With all the autumn blaze of Golden Rod;
And everywhere the Purple Asters nod
  And bend and wave and flit.

  But when the names I hear,
I never picture how their pageant lies
Spread out in tender stateliness of guise,
  The fairest of the year.

  I only see one nook,
A wooded nook—half sun, half shade—
Where one I love his footsteps sudden stayed,
  And whispered, "Darling, look!"

  Two oak leaves, vivid green,
Hung low among the ferns, and parted wide;
While purple Aster Stars, close side by side,
  Like faces peered between.

  Like maiden faces set
In vine-wreathed window, waiting shy and glad
For joys whose dim, mysterious promise had
  But promise been, as yet.

  And, like proud lovers bent,
In regal courtesy, as kings might woo,
Tall Golden Rods, bareheaded in the dew,
  Above the Asters leant.

  Ah, me! Lands will be lit
With every autumn's blaze of Golden Rod,
And purple Asters everywhere will nod
  And bend and wave and flit;

  Until, like ripened seed,
This little earth itself, some noon, shall float
Off into space, a tiny shining mote,
  Which none but God will heed;

  But never more will be
Sweet Asters peering through that branch of oak
To hear such precious words as dear lips spoke
  That sunny day to me.