: In Memorabilia Mortis by Sherman Francis - Canadian poetry; Sonnets

@FreeBooksWed 07 Jun, 2023

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IN MEMORABILIA MORTIS

IN MEMORABILIA MORTIS

BY FRANCIS SHERMAN

M DCCC XCVI

"BUT YE--SHALL I BEHOLD YOU WHEN LEAVES FALL, IN SOME SAD EVENING OP THE AUTUMN-TIDE?"

IN MEMORABILIA MORTIS

I

I marked the slow withdrawal of the year, Out on the hills the scarlet maples shone-- The glad, first herald of triumphant dawn. A robin's song fell through the silence--clear As long ago it rang when June was here. Then, suddenly, a few grey clouds were drawn Across the sky; and all the song was gone, And all the gold was quick to disappear, That day the sun seemed loth to come again; And all day long the low wind spoke of rain, Far off, beyond the hills; and moaned, like one Wounded, among the pines: as though the Earth, Knowing some giant grief had come to birth, Had wearied of the Summer and the Sun.

II

I watched the slow oncoming of the Fall. Slowly the leaves fell from the elms, and lay Along the roadside; and the wind's strange way Was their way, when they heard the wind's far call. The crimson vines that clung along the wall Grew thin as snow that lives on into May; Grey dawn, grey noon,--all things and hours were grey, When quietly the darkness covered all. And while no sunset flamed across the west, And no great moon rose where the hills were low, The day passed out as if it had not been: And so it seemed the year sank to its rest, Remembering naught, desiring naught,--as though Early in Spring its young leaves were not green.

A little while before the Fall was done A day came when the frail year paused and said: "Behold! a little while and I am dead; Wilt thou not choose, of all the old dreams, one?" Then dwelt I in a garden, where the sun Shone always, and the roses all were red; Far off, the great sea slept, and overhead, Among the robins, matins had begun. And I knew not at all it was a dream Only, and that the year was near its close; Garden and sunshine, robin-song and rose, The half-heard murmur and the distant gleam Of all the unvext sea, a little space Were as a mist above the Autumn's face.

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