Original Poetry.

Thames Star, Volume XV, Issue 4773, 26 April 1884, Page 1

Original Poetry.

LEAF LOBE.

Aspiring Heavenwards, straight and tall,

The poplar trees were growing, And a western sunbeam lit them all

With a lustre bright and glowing,

It was not like the ruddy glare

Of fire, amongst forest trees, But a golden radiance clear and rare, Made tremulous by the breeze

That lightly, gaily seemed to play ; With the leaves of amber hue; From its dainty touch they shrank away, And the shady pathway strew. Yet those resplendent Autumn leaves, Beautiful, sunny, and gay, Not with the aspect of one who grieves Complete their, last life day.

'Twas sad to see them as they fell More soft than Summer rain, With never a requiem or a knell, In their beauty on the plain.

Their simple history how brief: A pale green bud in Spring, In Summer, grown a perfect leaf; And now a withered-thing.

But always wonderfully fair, When gemmed with pearls of dew, Or lustrous in warm noontide air; In dying, lovely too.

Bright leaves, what mortal would not long To live ; then pass away Like sweet note of heart vocal song, Glad as a sunbeam's ray.

With bounding step, a laughing child Passed where the leaves did lie— A thoughtful man, a youth who smiled, , Trod o'er them, hurrying by;

Nor paused, nor once admiring thought, What proofs of skill Divine, Beneath their feet lay deftly wrought In delicate design.

But as we know that language claims When unknown, scanty heed, So Nature often vainly frames Her speech: men do not read.

Since soon or late Death comes to all, Heart, live, that joy, not grief, May thrill theo at thy Creator's call: Learn from an Autumn Leaf.

A., Thames.