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Read more poems by Edna St. Vincent Millay: Edna St. Vincent Millay Poems at Poetry X.

When reeds are dead and a straw to thatch the marshes,
And feathered pampas-grass rides into the wind
Like aged warriors westward, tragic, thinned
Of half their tribe, and over the flattened rushes,
Stripped of its secret, open, stark and bleak,
Blackens afar the half-forgotten creek,—
Then leans on me the weight of the year, and crushes
My heart. I know that Beauty must ail and die,
And will be born again,—but ah, to see
Beauty stiffened, staring up at the sky!
Oh, Autumn! Autumn!—What is the Spring to me?

Added: 6 Oct 2002 | Last Read: 22 Nov 2009 12:31 AM | Viewed: 2942 times

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