Poetry of Kansas

Under the Leaves

A carpet all of faded brown,
    On the gray bough a dove that grieves;
Death seemeth here to have his own,
But the spring violets nestle down
            Under the leaves.
 
A brow austere and sad gray eyes,
    Locks in which Care her silver weaves;
Hope seemeth tombed no more to rise,
But God he knoweth on what wise
Love for Love's sunshine waiting lies
           Under the leaves.
 
__William Herbert Carruth
 
Kansas In Literature
Part I - Poetry
(Topeka: Crane & Co. 1900)
page 81
 
March 25, 2005 / John & Susan Howell / Wichita, Kansas / howell@kotn.org

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