I heard the leaves of the willow whisper
As they fell at morn on the gusty mere:
'You shall he torn and blown as we are,
In a wind that bears the crumbling year.'
I heard the boulders murmur mutely
In the noontide sun on the windless hill:
'Sometime you shall be calm as we are
And as tranquil and as still.'
Vaticinations
Clark Ashton Smith
(1)
Poem topics: sun, wind, whisper, year, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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