Retrospect.

May has tipped the stately poplar,
Elm, and oak, and beech with flame.
Leaves of beaten gold and emerald,
Leaves that might the rainbow shame
Sigh beside me, but their beauty
Soon the breath of winter chills.
Lanes of whispering gold and purple
Seek the far, blue, distant hills:
Hills that beckon, draw me ever
Till I climb their grassy sides;
See before me sea and sunset,
And the restless, flame-tipped tides:
Neptune's cloak of royal purple,
Slashed with gold, and edged with fire.
All the colours of the Autumn
Tint the waves of my desire.
Time there was—but why remember?
Yesterday is dead. To-day
Autumn paints the earth with beauty;
Leave the sea and come away.
Leave the sea, but not its memory;
Keep its peace; forget its strife.
Leaves like snowflakes tinged with
sunset
Strew the road to cheer my life.

—C. W. Vennell.