Read the poem: “On An Autumn Sketch Of H.G. Wild”

by James Russell Lowell

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American Literature – American Poetry – James Russell Lowell
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On An Autumn Sketch Of H.G. Wild

Thanks to the artist, ever on my wall
The sunset stays: that hill in glory rolled,
Those trees and clouds in crimson and in gold,
Burn on, nor cool when evening’s shadows fall.
Not round these splendors Midnight wraps her pall;
These leaves the flush of Autumn’s vintage hold
In Winter’s spite, nor can the Northwind bold
Deface my chapel’s western window small:
On one, ah me! October struck his frost,
But not repaid him with those Tyrian hues;
His naked boughs but tell him what is lost,
And parting comforts of the sun refuse:
His heaven is bare,—ah, were its hollow crost
Even with a cloud whose light were yet to lose!

< < < On a Portrait of Dante by Giotto
On Board the ’76 > > >

American Literature – American Poetry – James Russell Lowell

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by James Russell Lowell

On An Autumn Sketch Of H.G. Wild

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