Classic Poem

Thou art not fair, and tall, and straight,
As all thy summer sisters were
Who bloomed in sunshine; thou too late
Must feel the cold wind's frosty stir.

Beside thee moans the angry sea,
The salt spray dashes on thy cheek;
The cold gray sky looks down on thee;
Thy bed itself is hard and bleak.

Yet crouched within thy sheltered nook
Undimmed thy golden petals are,
So sweet and bright thy gladsome look
Thou shinest like an earthly star,
Whose cheerful gleam makes bright the night
Of dull gray cloud, and autumn blight.