Forth they swept.[Pg 48]

[Pg 48]

Whiles they leapt in a maddened dance,

Swung scatterwise;

Eddied and swirled to a swift advance

Till they crept

Spent and worn, in their frenzied fear,

Leaves of brown-gold

Chittering feebly in masses sere,

Crazed and slow:

And I know, what never man knew,

Those poor dead leaves

Are the souls of men the grey wind slew—

This I know.

[Pg 49]

[Pg 49]

Poeta Nascitur

 Tho' all mayn't know it, Rules only, never made a poet. 

Tho' all mayn't know it,

Rules only, never made a poet.

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