All night long the black leaves, one by one,
Laughed, and shivered, and fell into darkness.

IV. RETURN

She has come home
To the house she knew:
But she has forgotten
The square oaken smile of the door.

The room is a stranger,
The fire is sullen;
On her hair a black leaf shines
And clings where it fell.

Against her heart
She has hidden away
The bitter golden profile of a king.

Elegy

I would be autumn earth, and hold
Your beautiful body, slain,
Where, lying still and cold,
Only the winter rain
Shall touch your limbs and face;
Where the white frost shall wed.
Your body to black mould
In the close, passionless embrace