Explore "The Death of Autumn" by Edna St. Vincent Millay on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When reeds are dead and a straw to thatch the marshes, / And feathered pampas-grass rides into the wind / Like aged warriors westward, tragic, thinned
Of half their tribe; and over the flattened rushes, / Stripped of its secret, open, stark and bleak, / Blackens afar the half-forgotten creek,- / Then leans on me the weight of the year, and crushes / My heart. I know that Beauty must ail and die, / And will be born again,-but ah, to see / Beauty stiffened, staring up at the sky!
Oh, Autumn! Autumn! -What is the Spring to me?