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Robert Laurence Binyon - The Unreturning Spring
Work rating: Low

A leaf on the gray sand--path
 Fallen, and fair with rime!
 A yellow leaf, a scarlet leaf,
 And a green leaf ere its time.

 Days rolled in blood, days torn,
 Days innocent, days burnt black,
 What is it the wind is sighing
 As the leaves float, swift or slack?

 The year`s pale spectre is crying
 For beauty invisibly shed,
 For the things that never were told
 And were killed in the minds of the dead.
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