Harmonies (Howe collection)/Before the Snow
BEFORE THE SNOW
The yellow flame of goldenrod
Is spent, and by the road instead,
The flowers, like smoke-wreaths o'er the sod,
Hang burned and dead.
Is spent, and by the road instead,
The flowers, like smoke-wreaths o'er the sod,
Hang burned and dead.
The sumac cones of crimson show
Beyond the roadside, black and charred;
The trees, a bloodless, ashen row,
Stand autumn-scarred.
Beyond the roadside, black and charred;
The trees, a bloodless, ashen row,
Stand autumn-scarred.
Dark are the field-fires of the year;
Let all the flickering embers die!
Without, the cold white days are near;
Within are warmth—and you, and I.
Let all the flickering embers die!
Without, the cold white days are near;
Within are warmth—and you, and I.