A Lament 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?
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