And perched in flocks on my hickory tree,
While the leaves, at first just touched with flame,
Grew golden, then brown as brown could be,
And still they came in a sable shower___
A flittering, clattering, noisy crowd___
And I wondered, watching them hour by hour,
What they said when they talked so loud.
Sadly the leaves fell, one by one,
Floating, fluttering slowly down___
Leaves so green in the summer sun,
Now so withered, and sere, and brown.
The tree grew bare: I watched one day
In vain the blackbirds came no more;
And then I knew they had fled away,
And my sorrowful thought this burden bore:
The winds shall blow through my hickory-tree,
The sifting snow, and the sleety rain;
But, little I know what awaiteth me
Ere the leaves and the blackbirds come again:
__Ellen P. Allerton.
Walls of Corn and Other Poems
Ellen P. Allerton
(Hiawatha, KS: Harrington Printing Company. 1894)