Explore "From the Grave" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When the first sere leaves of the year were falling, / I heard, with a heart that was strangely thrilled, / Out of the grave of a dead Past calling, / A voice I fancied forever stilled.
All through winter and spring and summer, / Silence hung over that grave like a pall, / But, borne on the breath of the last sad comer, / I listen again to the old-time call.