Poem Hunter
DM (20/12/1988 / Colchester)


Poem By David Mitchell

The shining summer ages, dwindles, dies;
The heat turns to the cold.
The former azure hue of yonder skies
Is hardly to behold:

For often, as hastens the wintry time,
Full many a cotton cloud
O'ercasts the heaven; approaches the cold clime
When snow shall come, like shroud.

'Tis not here yet; some warmth doth yet remain,
As leaves from bleak boughs fall:
The mellow colours winter will disdain,
For they will vanish, all:

The autumn, like its leaves, must fall and fade,
With the ephem'ral year:
Creation all will have died and decay'd,
That green was ere 'twas sere.

(Monday,10th October,2005.)

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Comments (3)

I could, and that did cross my mind, but I will leave it as it is now. A shade of meaning is lost otherwise. Thank you for the comment though.
You could replace 'bleak boughs' with a straightforward 'branches'? Cheers.
In manuscript the second line of the third stanza reads 'As leaves from bare boughs fall: ' I changed 'bare' to 'bleak', however, for reasons of logic; viz. that the boughs are not bare until the leaves have fallen from them. The same could perhaps be argued for the word 'bleak' but I cannot think of another monosyllable beginning with B that would work.