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<h2>BY AN AUTUMN STREAM</h2> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> Now overhead, Where the rivulet loiters and stops, The bittersweet hangs from the tops Of the alders and cherries Its bunches of beautiful berries, Orange and red. </div> <div class="stanza"> [43]And the snowbirds flee, Tossing up on the far brown field, Now flashing and now concealed, Like fringes of spray That vanish and gleam on the gray Field of the sea. </div> <div class="stanza"> Flickering light, Come the last of the leaves down borne, And patches of pale white corn In the wind complain, Like the slow rustle of rain Noticed by night. </div> <div class="stanza"> Withered and thinned, The sentinel mullein looms, With the pale gray shadowy plumes Of the goldenrod; And the milkweed opens its pod, Tempting the wind. </div> <div class="stanza"> Aloft on the hill, A cloudrift opens and shines Through a break in its gorget of pines, And it dreams at my feet In a sad, silvery sheet, Utterly still. </div> <div class="stanza"> All things that be Seem plunged into silence, distraught, By some stern, some necessitous thought:[44] It wraps and enthralls Marsh, meadow, and forest; and falls Also on me. </div> </div> <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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