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The Weblog at The View from the Core - Wed. 10/01/08 08:41:41 AM
   
         
         
   

"A Spirit Haunts The Year's Last Hours"

Random Poetry List LXXVII

A spirit haunts the year's last hours
Dwelling amid these yellowing bowers:
          To himself he talks;
For at eventide, listening earnestly,
At his work you may hear him sob and sigh
          In the walks;
Earthward he boweth the heavy stalks
Of the moldering flowers.
     Heavily hangs the broad sunflower
          Over its grave i' the earth so chilly;
     Heavily hangs the hollyhock,
          Heavily hangs the tiger-lily.

The air is damp, and hushed, and close,
As a sick man's room when he taketh repose
          An hour before death;
My very heart faints and my whole soul grieves
At the moist rich smell of the rotting leaves,
          And the breath
Of the fading edges of box beneath,
And the year's last rose.
     Heavily hangs the broad sunflower
          Over its grave i' the earth so chilly;
     Heavily hangs the hollyhock,
          Heavily hangs the tiger-lily.

Alfred Lord Tennyson (1809-1892)

Originally e-mailed on Sunday, October 01, 2000 @ 5:53 PM.

Lane Core Jr. CIW P — Wed. 10/01/08 08:41:41 AM
Categorized as Literary & Random Poetry List.

   
         
         

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