Watching Autumn Advance…

Upon reading this poem, my initial thought was of autumn decay- leaves falling, dying, my garden empty and sparse. Yet there is hope spring will comeĀ again.

{An excerpt from}

In Memoriam

by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Unwatch'd the garden bough shall sway,
The tender blossom flutter down,
Unloved that beech will gather brown,
The maple burn itself away;
Unloved, the sunflower, shining fair,
Ray round with flames her disk of seed,
And many a rose carnation feed
With summer spice the humming air;
Till from the garden and the wild
A fresh association blow,
And year by year, the landscape grow
Familiar to the stranger's child;
As year by year the labourer tills
His wonted glebe, or lops the glades;
And year by year our memory fades
From all the circle of the hills.
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