. One hundred and one famous poems, with a prose supplement. That Time of Year William Shakespeare (Born April 23 (?), 1564; Died April 23,1616) That time of year thou mayst in me beholdWhen yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hangUpon those boughs which shake against the cold,Bare ruind choirs, where late the sweet birds sang: In me thou seest the twilight of such dayAs after sunset fadeth in the west,Which by and by black night doth take away,Deaths second self, that seals up all in rest: In me thou seest the glowing of such fireThat on the ashes of his youth doth lie,As the death-bed whereon
. One hundred and one famous poems, with a prose supplement. That Time of Year William Shakespeare (Born April 23 (?), 1564; Died April 23,1616) That time of year thou mayst in me beholdWhen yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hangUpon those boughs which shake against the cold,Bare ruind choirs, where late the sweet birds sang: In me thou seest the twilight of such dayAs after sunset fadeth in the west,Which by and by black night doth take away,Deaths second self, that seals up all in rest: In me thou seest the glowing of such fireThat on the ashes of his youth doth lie,As the death-bed whereon it must expire,Consumd with that which it was nourishd by: —This thou perceivst, which makes thy love more strong,To love that well which thou must leave ere long. Page Eighty ©kc Jktwttiirait nsxix ©«e ^fittmous Hftazmz. Plant a Tree Lucy Larcom(Born March 5, 1824 (f); £>iVd /4/>n7 /7. He who plants a tree Plants a hope. Rootlets up through fibres blindly grope;Leaves unfold into horizons free. So mans life must clim From the clods of time Unto heavens thou prophesy, thou little tree,What the glory of thy boughs shall be? He who plants a tree Plants a joy; Plants a comfort that will never cloy;Every day a fresh reality, Beautiful and strong, To whose shelter throng Creatures blithe with thou couldst but know, thou happy tree,Of the bliss that shall inhabit thee! He who plants a tree,— He plants peace. Under its green curtains jargons and zephyr murmur soothingly; Shadows soft with sleep Down tired eyelids creep, Balm of slumber hast thou dreamed, thou blessed tree,Of the benediction thou shalt be. He who plants a tree,— He plants youth; Vigor won for centuries in sooth;Life of time, that hints eternity! Page E i g h t y-o n e (Due {Enttbtzb. vcnb
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1920, booksubjectenglishpoetry, bookye
