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Poems of Arthur Hugh Clough

by Arthur Hugh Clough

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A Song of Autumn

My wind is turned to bitter north,
  That was so soft a south before;
My sky, that shone so sunny bright,
  With foggy gloom is clouded o’er:
My gay green leaves are yellow-black,
  Upon the dank autumnal floor;
For love, departed once, comes back
  No more again, no more.

A roofless ruin lies my home,
  For winds to blow and rains to pour;
One frosty night befell, and lo!
  I find my summer days are o’er:
The heart bereaved, of why and how
  Unknowing, knows that yet before
It had what e’en to Memory now
  Returns no more, no more.

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