<h2><SPAN name="TO_THE_LEAF-CRICKET" id="TO_THE_LEAF-CRICKET"></SPAN>TO THE LEAF-CRICKET</h2>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<h4>I</h4>
<span class="i6">Small twilight singer<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Of dew and mist: thou ghost-gray, gossamer winger<br/></span>
<span class="i6">Of dusk's dim glimmer,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">How cool thy note sounds; how thy wings of shimmer<br/></span>
<span class="i6">Vibrate, soft-sighing,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Meseems, for Summer that is dead or dying.<br/></span>
<span class="i6">I stand and listen,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And at thy song the garden-beds, that glisten<br/></span>
<span class="i6">With rose and lily,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Seem touched with sadness; and the tuberose chilly,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Breathing around its cold and colorless breath,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Fills the pale evening with wan hints of death.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<h4>II</h4>
<span class="i6">I see thee quaintly<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Beneath the leaf; thy shell-shaped winglets faintly—<br/></span>
<span class="i6">As thin as spangle<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Of cobwebbed rain—held up at airy angle;<br/></span>
<span class="i6">I hear thy tinkle,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Thy fairy notes, the silvery stillness sprinkle;<br/></span>
<span class="i6">Investing wholly<br/></span>
<span class="i0">The moonlight with divinest melancholy:<br/></span>
<span class="i6">Until, in seeming,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">I see the Spirit of the Summer dreaming<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Amid her ripened orchards, apple-strewn,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Her great, grave eyes fixed on the harvest-moon.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<h4>III</h4>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</SPAN></span>
<span class="i6">As dew-drops beady,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">As mist minute, thy notes ring low and reedy:<br/></span>
<span class="i6">The vaguest vapor<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Of melody, now near; now, like some taper<br/></span>
<span class="i6">Of sound, far fading—<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Thou will-o'-wisp of music aye evading.<br/></span>
<span class="i6">Among the bowers,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">The fog-washed stalks of Autumn's weeds and flowers,<br/></span>
<span class="i6">By hill and hollow,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">I hear thy murmur and in vain I follow—<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Thou jack-o'-lantern voice, thou elfin cry,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Thou dirge, that tellest Beauty she must die.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<h4>IV</h4>
<span class="i6">And when the frantic<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Wild winds of Autumn with the dead leaves antic;<br/></span>
<span class="i6">And walnuts scatter<br/></span>
<span class="i0">The mire of lanes; and dropping acorns patter<br/></span>
<span class="i6">In grove and forest,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Like some frail grief, with the rude blast thou warrest,<br/></span>
<span class="i6">Sending thy slender<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Far cry against the gale, that, rough, untender,<br/></span>
<span class="i6">Untouched of sorrow,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Sweeps thee aside, where, haply, I to-morrow<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Shall find thee lying, tiny, cold and crushed,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Thy weak wings folded and thy music hushed.<br/></span></div>
</div>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</SPAN></span>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />