Fall, leaves, fall…

Poems
“Photos”
Blogging in Paris

 

A flower of dead leaves
A Flower of Dead Leaves

Emily Jane Brontë (1818 – 1848)

Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day;
Every leaf speaks bliss to me
Fluttering from the autumn tree.

I shall smile when wreaths of snow
Blossom where the rose should grow;
I shall sing when night’s decay
Ushers in a drearier day. 

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5 thoughts on “Fall, leaves, fall…

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