Poetry Archives
@ eMule.com
      
advanced
tips
   
 Poetry » Classic Poets » Henry Wadsworth Longfellow »
 Autumn Within
 E-Mail  Printable View

Autumn Within
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

It is autumn; not without
But within me is the cold.
Youth and spring are all about;
It is I that have grown old.

Birds are darting through the air,
Singing, building without rest;
Life is stirring everywhere,
Save within my lonely breast.

There is silence: the dead leaves
Fall and rustle and are still;
Beats no flail upon the sheaves,
Comes no murmur from the mill.