Louise Bogan

Song for a Lyre

The landscape where I lie 
Again from boughs sets free 
Summer ; all night must fly 
In wind's obscurity 
The thick, green leaves that made 
Heavy the August shade. 

Soon, in the pictured night, 
Returns as in a dream 
Left after sleep's delight 
Hie shallow autumn stream: 
Softly awake, its sound 
Poured on the chilly ground. 

Soon fly the leaves in throngs; 
O love, though once I lay 
Far from its sound, to weep, 
When night divides my sleep, 
When stars, the autumn stream, 
Stillness, divide my dream, 
Night to your voice belongs.