Gray Weatherlea, And the sullen clouds sweep dark and Iow, like waves on a wintry sea, And from out of the woods the gaunt gray winds come whis- pering Iow to me: We come from the frozen northern hills, we have swept them clean and fair; We have drenched the plains with the biting rains and planted a promise there Of beauty and plenty the spring shall know, and only the spring shall bear. Autumnal, dull gray weather, when the days grow short and chill, And the voice of a million summer things is hushed by the frost and still; And the hoarse, gray winds are whispering close, over beyond the hill: We have left the desolate, ice-clad north, and sweeping from town to town, We have gutted the eaves of the crisp, dry leaves and banked them in beds of brown Over the life in the sleeping earth, till the spring comes smiling down. Gray weather, 0 gray weather! The fine, sharp mist and the rain! When the hoar frost whitens the pleasant fields laid bare of their garnered grain, And the gaunt, gray winds cry, thundering in from over the stark, brown plain: Ye have bargained with us in vain. in vain! Bar window and door instead! Give thanks for your sheltering walls tonight and the stout roof overhead! After us cometh the quickening spring ___ with that be ye com- forted. __Ester M. (Clark) Hill. |
The Call of Kansas and Other Poems
Esther M. (Clark) Hill
(Cedar Rapids: Torch Press. __)
Pages 55-56
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