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Home  »  The Oxford Book of Canadian Verse  »  Alexander Louis Fraser (1870–1954)

The Oxford Book of Canadian Verse

November

Alexander Louis Fraser (1870–1954)

EACH sapless leaf that lingers here

Where bare woods mourn

Shall soon upon Wind’s silvery bier

Be gravewards borne.

The bees have left our honey-bowers,

The birds are fled;

And ’neath the blight of frost our flowers

Have fallen—dead!

Yon meadow now, where grass grew green,

No grazing yields:

No bells are heard, no flocks are seen

In far, fenced fields.

Where children played till all the ground

Was wet with dew,

Autumn, to-day, with threatening sound

Snow trumpets blew.

Fear not November’s challenge bold—

We’ve books and friends;

And hearths that never can grow cold:

These make amends!