The Withered Leaf. (From The Villager's Verse-Book.)

Oh! mark the withered leaves that fall
In silence to the ground;
Upon the human heart they call,
And preach without a sound.

They say, So passes man's brief year!
To-day, his green leaves wave;
To-morrow, changed by time, and sere,
He drops into the grave.

Let Wisdom be our sole concern,
Since life's green days are brief!
And faith and heavenly hope shall learn
A lesson from the LEAF.

William Lisle Bowles

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.