October 17, 2011 Comments Off on Autumn
My soul doth magnify a certain sacred tree,
Its crown of reddish gold atop a sinewy bole
With death and spring above and low and here and there.
That deep deep gold, with garnet washed and limned:
Sheer golden beauty! A beauty in the turning:
Beauty in the glory, beauty in the turning
Back to death, beauty bursting wonderful into
A gorgeous unmelancholy exaltation
Just as unearthly fair, but not less unlike life
Which is nothing but green where we fear the turning
Of many many small things past the point of gold.
Ah! Basking in this rich light, how can I distrust,
How can anyone lose faith in cycles that hold
Lovely fresh green and glorious, glorious gold?