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April 16th, 2014 - we have 234 poets, 8,025 poems and 103,948 comments.
Henry David Thoreau - I am the autumnal sun

Sometimes a mortal feels in himself Nature 
-- not his Father but his Mother stirs 
within him, and he becomes immortal with her
immortality. From time to time she claims 
kindredship with us, and some globule 
from her veins steals up into our own.

I am the autumnal sun,
With autumn gales my race is run;
When will the hazel put forth its flowers,
Or the grape ripen under my bowers?
When will the harvest or the hunter's moon
Turn my midnight into mid-noon?
I am all sere and yellow,
And to my core mellow.
The mast is dropping within my woods,
The winter is lurking within my moods,
And the rustling of the withered leaf
Is the constant music of my grief....

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Added: Feb 7 2004 | Viewed: 11336 times | Comments and analysis of I am the autumnal sun by Henry David Thoreau Comments (59)

I am the autumnal sun - Comments and Information

Poet: Henry David Thoreau
Poem: I am the autumnal sun
Poem of the Day: Oct 18 2000

Comment 59 of 59, added on April 1st, 2014 at 10:20 AM.

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Comment 58 of 59, added on March 22nd, 2014 at 4:37 PM.

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Comment 57 of 59, added on March 22nd, 2014 at 2:31 PM.

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