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Frederick Goddard Tuckerman (Фредерик Годдард Такерман)


November


Oh! who is there of us that has not felt
The sad decadence of the failing year,
And marked the lesson still with grief and fear
Writ in the rolled leaf and widely dealt?
When now no longer burns yon woodland belt
Bright with disease; no tree in glowing death
Leans forth a cheek of flame to fade and melt
In the warm current of the west wind's breath;
Nor yet through low blue mist on slope and plain
Droops the red sunlight in a dream of day;
But from that lull the winds of change have burst
And dashed the drowsy leaf with shattering rain,
And swung the groves, and roared, and wreaked their worst
Till all the world is harsh and cold and gray.



Frederick Goddard Tuckerman's other poems:
  1. First Series. 28. Not the round natural world, not the deep mind
  2. April
  3. First Series. 5. And so the day drops by, the horizon draws
  4. First Series. 26. For Nature daily through her grand design
  5. First Series. 13. As one who walks and weeps by alien brine


Poems of other poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием):

  • John Clare (Джон Клэр) November ("The landscape sleeps in mist from morn till noon")
  • Hartley Coleridge (Хартли Кольридж) November ("THE mellow year is hasting to its close")
  • Robert Binyon (Роберт Биньон) November ("Together we laughed and talked in the warm--lit room")
  • John Payne (Джон Пейн) November ("THE tale of wake is told; the stage is bare")

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