Songs of the Common Day, and Ave!

An Ode for the Shelley Centenary

by Charles G.D. Roberts


 

OH, PURPLE HANG THE PODS


 

OH, purple hang the pods
    On the green locust-tree,
And yellow turn the sods
    On a grave that's dear to me!

And blue, softly blue,

5

    The hollow Autumn sky,
With its birds flying through
    To where the sun-lands lie!

In the sun-lands they'll bide
    While Winter's on the tree;—

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And oh that I might hide
    The grave that's dear to me!