John Bannister Tabb
Leaves - Poem by John Bannister Tabb
All your sylvan prophecies
But a phantom sigh!
'Yea, we listened to the breeze
Tempting us to fly
Like the summer birds and bees
From the branches high:
Now beneath our naked trees
Shadowless we lie,
In the autumn mysteries
Doomed, alas, to die.'
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