A Song of Autumn
By Arthur Hugh Clough
My wind is turned to bitter north,
That was so soft a south before;
My sky, that shone so sunny bright,
With foggy gloom is clouded oer
My gay green leaves are yellow-black,
Upon the dank autumnal floor;
For love, departed once, comes back
No more again, no more.
A roofless ruin lies my home,
For winds to blow and rains to pour;
One frosty night befell, and lo,
I find my summer days are oer:
The heart bereaved, of why and how
Unknowing, knows that yet before
It had what een to Memory now
Returns no more, no more.