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Poem by Thomas MacDonagh


In September


The winds are in the wood again to-day,
    Not moaning as they moan among bare boughs
In winter dark, nor baying as they bay
    When hunting in full moon, the spring to rouse;

Nor as in summer, soft: the insistent rain
    Hisses the woe of my void life to me;
And the winds jibe me for my anguish vain,
    Sibilant, like waters of the washing sea.



Thomas MacDonagh

Poem Theme: September

Thomas MacDonagh's other poems:
  1. Of the Man of My First Play
  2. In Fever
  3. The Philistine
  4. The Stars Stand up in the Air
  5. To a Wise Man


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Edward Dowden In September ("SPRING scarce had greener fields to show than these")
  • Amy Levy In September ("The sky is silver-grey; the long")

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