THE RED AND YELLOW LEAF.
The red and yellow leaf
Came down upon the wind,
Across the ripened grain;
The red and yellow leaf,
Before me and behind,
Sang shrilly in my brain:
“Pride and growth of spring,
Ease, and olden cheer,
Shall no longer be:
What benighted thing,
Dreamer, dost thou here?
Follow, follow me!
“Youth is done, and skill;
Any more to thee?
Pale thou art and chill;
All of love is dust:
Follow, follow me!”
“Thou red and yellow leaf,
O whither?” from my staff
I called adown the wind;
The red and yellow leaf,
I heard its mocking laugh
Before me and behind!
“POETE MY MAISTER CHAUCER.”[A]
Somewhere, sometime, I walked a field wherein
The daisies held high festival in white,
Thinking: Alas! he with a young delight
Among them once his golden web did spin;
He who made half-divine an olden inn,
The Tabard; sung of Ariadne bright,
And penned of Sarra’s king at fall of night,
“Where now I leave, there will I fresh begin.”
Then straightway heard I merry laughter rise
From one that wrote, thrown on a daisy-bed,
Who, seeing the two-fold wonder in mine eyes,
Spake, lifting up his fair and reverend head:
“Child! this is the earth-completing Paradise,
And thou, that strayest here, art centuries dead.”