And banners of the gay and dauntless grass.

Here little paths will find their way again,

And here the patient cattle come to stand,

Until, grown half-incredulous, these men

Looking from doorways on the evening land,

Can scarcely think—so deep the quiet lies—

How all of this was ever otherwise.

[12]

[12]

ONE DAY IN AUTUMN

With all our going through this golden weather,

Where leaves have littered every forest way,

If there be lovers, they should be together:

For this is golden ... but the end is grey.

Beyond this shimmer where the bright leaves fall,

Behind this haze of silver shot with gold,

There is a greyness waiting for it all,—

A little longer ... and the world is old.

And never loneliness grew more and more,

As this that haunts these late October days,

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