Classic Poem

[S EPTEMBER .]

Yesterday , when Autumn's fire
Flushed the maple and the briar,
Till they crimsoned as a maid
Who her love hath just betrayed, —
Disappeared my summer dream,
Like the picture in a stream
Which the wanton breezes chase
From the liquid mirror's face.

Was each reddening leaf the ghost
Of a precious moment lost?
Else why should the woodland's glow
Thrill me with such sense of woe,
That from Summer's dying bed,
Like a frightened boy I fled,
Hastening to the changeless town
With its stony smile and frown?

Vain the coward hope! For night
Brought a monitor in sight
Sterner than those dying leaves,
Sadder than September's sheaves
Lo! Orion stalks between
Aldebaran and the sheen
Sparkling Sirius, in disdain,
Sheds upon the Warrior's train.

Warrior — Hunter! Like a bird
Serpent-charmed, thy blazing sword
Holds me as it were the blade
O'er a prisoned monarch swayed
Sword of menace! Blade of fear,
Shearing from my life a year!
Shall I see thee gleam again
O'er another twelvemonth slain?