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JOSEPH COURTNEY
Lieut., R.A.M.C.
"As the Leaves Fall"
Autumn, 1916
AND the leaves fall . . .
The silver and the golden fall together,
A-mingled irresistibly like tears.
The low-branched elms stand idly
In all the full-leaved glory of their life:
Yet here and there a yellow flake slips slowly,
And the branch, where once it hung, lies bare.
Below they lie—the golden fruits of day.
And a soft spirit of the night
Weaves the white spell of sleep about their feet.
And the leaves fall . . .
The great sleep of the trees is nigh:
The flowers are dead.
Yet through the fine-spun web of mist
Gleams faintly Michael's pale blue star. . . .
A time of sad soul-hunger, unspeakable desire,
That clutches at the heart and drags the soul!
19
