L.—AUTUMN.
1. Then die, thou Year—thy work is done:The work ill done is done at last.Far off, beyond that sinking sunWhich sets in blood, I hear the blast2. That sings thy dirge, and says—“Ascend,“And answer make amid thy peers,“(Since all things here must have an end,)“Thou latest of the famine years!”3. I join that voice. No joy have IIn all thy purple and thy gold;Nor in that nine fold harmonyFrom forest on to forest rolled:4. Nor in that stormy western fire,Which burns on ocean’s gloomy bed,And hurls, as from a funeral pyre,A glare that strikes the mountain’s head;5. And writes on low-hung clouds its linesOf cyphered flame, with hurrying hand;And flings amid the topmost pinesThat crown the steep, a burning brand.6. Make answer, Year, for all thy dead,Who found not rest in hallowed earth;The widowed wife, the father fled,The babe age-stricken from his birth7. Make answer, Year, for virtue lost;For courage proof ’gainst fraud and forceNow waning like a noontide ghost;Affections poisoned at their source.8. The laborer spurned his lying spade,The yeoman spurned his useless plow;The pauper spurned the unwholesome aid,Obtruded once, exhausted now.9. The roof-trees fall of hut and hall,I hear them fall, and falling cry,“One fate for each, one fate for all;So wills the Law that willed a lie.”10. Dread power of Man! what spread the wasteIn circles hour by hour more wide,And would not let the past be past?—The Law that promised much, and lied.11. Dread power of God! Whom mortal yearsNor touch, nor tempt; Who sitt’st sublimeIn night of night—O bid thy spheresResound at last a funeral chime!12. Call up at last the afflicted race,Whom man, not God, abolished.—Sore,For centuries, their strife: the placeThat knew them once shall know no more!
1. Then die, thou Year—thy work is done:The work ill done is done at last.Far off, beyond that sinking sunWhich sets in blood, I hear the blast2. That sings thy dirge, and says—“Ascend,“And answer make amid thy peers,“(Since all things here must have an end,)“Thou latest of the famine years!”3. I join that voice. No joy have IIn all thy purple and thy gold;Nor in that nine fold harmonyFrom forest on to forest rolled:4. Nor in that stormy western fire,Which burns on ocean’s gloomy bed,And hurls, as from a funeral pyre,A glare that strikes the mountain’s head;5. And writes on low-hung clouds its linesOf cyphered flame, with hurrying hand;And flings amid the topmost pinesThat crown the steep, a burning brand.6. Make answer, Year, for all thy dead,Who found not rest in hallowed earth;The widowed wife, the father fled,The babe age-stricken from his birth7. Make answer, Year, for virtue lost;For courage proof ’gainst fraud and forceNow waning like a noontide ghost;Affections poisoned at their source.8. The laborer spurned his lying spade,The yeoman spurned his useless plow;The pauper spurned the unwholesome aid,Obtruded once, exhausted now.9. The roof-trees fall of hut and hall,I hear them fall, and falling cry,“One fate for each, one fate for all;So wills the Law that willed a lie.”10. Dread power of Man! what spread the wasteIn circles hour by hour more wide,And would not let the past be past?—The Law that promised much, and lied.11. Dread power of God! Whom mortal yearsNor touch, nor tempt; Who sitt’st sublimeIn night of night—O bid thy spheresResound at last a funeral chime!12. Call up at last the afflicted race,Whom man, not God, abolished.—Sore,For centuries, their strife: the placeThat knew them once shall know no more!
1. Then die, thou Year—thy work is done:The work ill done is done at last.Far off, beyond that sinking sunWhich sets in blood, I hear the blast
1. Then die, thou Year—thy work is done:
The work ill done is done at last.
Far off, beyond that sinking sun
Which sets in blood, I hear the blast
2. That sings thy dirge, and says—“Ascend,“And answer make amid thy peers,“(Since all things here must have an end,)“Thou latest of the famine years!”
2. That sings thy dirge, and says—“Ascend,
“And answer make amid thy peers,
“(Since all things here must have an end,)
“Thou latest of the famine years!”
3. I join that voice. No joy have IIn all thy purple and thy gold;Nor in that nine fold harmonyFrom forest on to forest rolled:
3. I join that voice. No joy have I
In all thy purple and thy gold;
Nor in that nine fold harmony
From forest on to forest rolled:
4. Nor in that stormy western fire,Which burns on ocean’s gloomy bed,And hurls, as from a funeral pyre,A glare that strikes the mountain’s head;
4. Nor in that stormy western fire,
Which burns on ocean’s gloomy bed,
And hurls, as from a funeral pyre,
A glare that strikes the mountain’s head;
5. And writes on low-hung clouds its linesOf cyphered flame, with hurrying hand;And flings amid the topmost pinesThat crown the steep, a burning brand.
5. And writes on low-hung clouds its lines
Of cyphered flame, with hurrying hand;
And flings amid the topmost pines
That crown the steep, a burning brand.
6. Make answer, Year, for all thy dead,Who found not rest in hallowed earth;The widowed wife, the father fled,The babe age-stricken from his birth
6. Make answer, Year, for all thy dead,
Who found not rest in hallowed earth;
The widowed wife, the father fled,
The babe age-stricken from his birth
7. Make answer, Year, for virtue lost;For courage proof ’gainst fraud and forceNow waning like a noontide ghost;Affections poisoned at their source.
7. Make answer, Year, for virtue lost;
For courage proof ’gainst fraud and force
Now waning like a noontide ghost;
Affections poisoned at their source.
8. The laborer spurned his lying spade,The yeoman spurned his useless plow;The pauper spurned the unwholesome aid,Obtruded once, exhausted now.
8. The laborer spurned his lying spade,
The yeoman spurned his useless plow;
The pauper spurned the unwholesome aid,
Obtruded once, exhausted now.
9. The roof-trees fall of hut and hall,I hear them fall, and falling cry,“One fate for each, one fate for all;So wills the Law that willed a lie.”
9. The roof-trees fall of hut and hall,
I hear them fall, and falling cry,
“One fate for each, one fate for all;
So wills the Law that willed a lie.”
10. Dread power of Man! what spread the wasteIn circles hour by hour more wide,And would not let the past be past?—The Law that promised much, and lied.
10. Dread power of Man! what spread the waste
In circles hour by hour more wide,
And would not let the past be past?—
The Law that promised much, and lied.
11. Dread power of God! Whom mortal yearsNor touch, nor tempt; Who sitt’st sublimeIn night of night—O bid thy spheresResound at last a funeral chime!
11. Dread power of God! Whom mortal years
Nor touch, nor tempt; Who sitt’st sublime
In night of night—O bid thy spheres
Resound at last a funeral chime!
12. Call up at last the afflicted race,Whom man, not God, abolished.—Sore,For centuries, their strife: the placeThat knew them once shall know no more!
12. Call up at last the afflicted race,
Whom man, not God, abolished.—Sore,
For centuries, their strife: the place
That knew them once shall know no more!