The Poetry Corner

Farewell To Arcady

By Paul Laurence Dunbar

With sombre mien, the Evening gray Comes nagging at the heels of Day, And driven faster and still faster Before the dusky-mantled Master, The light fades from her fearful eyes, She hastens, stumbles, falls, and dies. Beside me Amaryllis weeps; The swelling tears obscure the deeps Of her dark eyes, as, mistily, The rushing rain conceals the sea. Here, lay my tuneless reed away,-- I have no heart to tempt a lay. I scent the perfume of the rose Which by my crystal fountain grows. In this sad time, are roses blowing? And thou, my fountain, art thou flowing, While I who watched thy waters spring Am all too sad to smile or sing? Nay, give me back my pipe again, It yet shall breathe this single strain: Farewell to Arcady!