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220
POEMS AND SONGS
And what in silence being took;
So here and there the book possesses
Your spirit and your heart’s fresh faith,
And therefore now your name it blesses.
I love the air, when growing colder
It, clear and high,
The purer sky
Broadens with sense of freedom bolder.
I find in forests joy the keenest
In autumn days
When fancy plays,
And not when they are young and greenest.
I knew a man: in autumn clearness
His even course, —
His heart’s fine force
Like autumn sky in soft-hued sheerness.
His memory is, as—when a-swarming
The cold blasts first
Of winter burst —
The gentle flame my room first warming.
When all our outward longings falter,
And summer’s mind
Within we find,
Is friendship’s feast round autumn’s altar.
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