All hushed of glee,
The last chill bee
Clings wearily
To the dying aster:
The leaves drop faster:
And all around, red as disaster,
The forest crimsons with tree on tree.
A butterfly,
The last to die,
Droops heavily by,
Weighed down with torpor:
The air grows sharper:
And the wind in the trees, like some sad harper,
Sits and sorrows with sigh on sigh.
The far crows call;
The acorns fall;
And over all
The Autumn raises
Dun mists and hazes,
Through which her soul, it seemeth, gazes
On ghosts and dreams in carnival.
The end is near:
The dying Year
Leans low to hear
Her own heart breaking,
And Beauty taking
Her flight, and all her dreams forsaking
Her soul, bowed down ‘mid the sad and sere.
Credits
Madison Julius Cawein was an American poet from Louisville, Kentucky, who lived from 1865 to 1914 and was widely known as the "Keats of Kentucky" for his richly sensory nature verse. He published over thirty volumes of poetry during his lifetime, drawing consistently from the landscapes and seasons of the American South. "Hallowmas" takes its title from the old name for All Saints' Day, anchoring this meditation on autumn's end in both the natural calendar and older traditions of honouring the dead.
