A heaven above and heaven below— Shiver and moan in the gusty blast, Until darkness drove the twilight o’er the hill where fled the day. O collectors, have no fear, Paused; for we had been old comrades and they sang a farewell song. It's in them all. Come Little Leaves "Come, little leaves" said the wind one day, "Come over the meadows with me, and play; Put on your dresses of red and gold; Summer is gone, and the days grow cold." Put on your dresses of red and gold; For Summer is past, and the days grow cold.” ― George Cooper " Come, little leaves, " said the wind one day, " Come o'er the meadows with me and play; Put on your dresses of red and gold, For summer is gone and the days grow cold. " 15. But safe are the nuts in their foliage quilt, Then I thought, “For me she’s waiting”—so I glanced off to the right, "It is _so_ nice to go to bed! When the nights are getting frosty 6. The snow laid a coverlet over their heads. Soon as the leaves heard the wind's loud call, To sure repose in its own sheltered place, Autumn leaves, why deck yourselves Is it that you would prepare Or from their housing turned the churlish wind. Frolicked and danced, and had their way, For your latest breath— Each day when my brother got home, I … Now the north wind is a-blowing Every leaf speaks bliss to me The leaves, now driven before the blast, Use full sentences in your description! Come Little Leaves. "And what shall I bring you, my Sweet?" Blowing in russet and red; What is the complete title of this poem? And the yellowing leaves fly thick and fast. Spelling Poem #7: Come Little Leaves We are continuing with our fall theme with this week's poem. Loosing their leaves upon the cradling air Like banners of marching armies The leaves of the sturdy oak trees Gone are the spring's green sprouting bowers. The sight was like a rainbow “Come, little leaves,” said the wind one day, “Over the meadows with me and play. The wind is up and my heart is turning They seem as the birds with intelligence crowned Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf The tree that he has planted still shall flourish young and hale. Oh, the songs yet to sing of the beautiful woods, Of snow by night upon a solemn sea, Like jeweled tables . And the sunlight, then declining, solved its geometric grace. And then the party ended Let's have a feast," October said, Ah, not forever whirl they in the race The poet George Cooper (1838-1927) wrote the following poem titled Come Little Leaves. Then let us meet the autumn with a strong and perfect trust, I find her joyous, radiant, serene. Across the hollow year, noiseless and swift. From year after year nature daintily weaves . kids craft scissors. It is quite time to go to bed. The one red leaf, the last of its clan, And dreamed the dreams that flowers do Winter had called them, and they were content. A nursling of the under-green, O, it is joy to be Professor Wind the band. Her hardest hue to hold. Of red and gold; Summer is gone, And the days grow cold.” Soon as the leaves. Little songs they knew. Leading off into the woodland that had stole the sunset’s gold. And everything was grand, The winter may come with its ice and its silt, Back where the bull-moose call. How the heart feels a languid grief And fear not that the stormy wind shall lay us in the dust; Remember! Put on your dresses Of red and gold, For summer is past And the days grow cold." In Spring, the seeking roots will gather in And how the swift beat of the brain Their little summer day is past, and yellow, dry, and sere, … Past the barn and past the school, And the air is crisp and cold, In the autumn sun; Close-fettered, till the kindred fire Float down from high pine-boughs the slender leaves. In Autumn at the fall of the leaf And through the alburnum coax fluids to flow. COME LITTLE LEAVES by George Cooper "Come, little leaves" said the wind one day, "Come to the meadows with me, and play; Put on your dresses of red and gold; For Summer is past, and the days grow cold." Yet, the days are growing cold… instead of playing, what are they now doing? For I know a little cabin Say you are sorry to see us go; At hide-and-seek they played, There is no death—mere winter of a sleep. Are they saying goodbye to their friends? Sportively sways with them When he tucks you in your snow Till Mother comes to say that soon Submit a poem. Overhead the birds were flying, but a black winged happy throng But I love it best of all; And then, in some cool hour, it loses hold His fingerless hands to the sun he upbore; Heard the wind's loud call, Down they came fluttering, One and all; Over the meadows. The ages circle down beyond recalling, That comes like snowfall, tireless, tranquil, fair. They fall and fall, till at November's close With wild heart heaving towards the past: Then every leaf put on her best, Of sap receded, and I fell. Soon as the leaves heard the wind's loud call, Down they came fluttering, one and all; ... Every autumn my neighbor would recite a poem. It used to hear but could not see. That though "the fig-tree wither" and "the olive branches fail," And so I spend the afternoon, you will miss us, right well we know. Come, Little Leaves by George Cooper "Come, little leaves," said the wind one day. Gay garbs for the living from shrouds of the dead. No better than spoons, And bags full of leaves Oh, Autumn! Soon these will slip from out the twigs' weak hold, Mother will keep you from harm and cold; Ripens its being in the sun and wind; They see their happy life-in-death. It took the wind's hand, and on it went; That turns about the world by day and night, Behold the resurrection of the leaf! That's where I long to be! 'Tis such a very pleasant day, One by one the dead leaves fall, They whisper to those who are willing to hear. As I say, some people hate it, "Come down to the meadow And we shall play. ", "Dear little lambs, in your fleecy fold, In my apple-orchard Of rustling all day . "Dear little lambs, in your fleecy fold, Mother will keep you from harm and cold; Fondly we've watched you in vale and glade; Say, will you dream of our loving shade?" Dear Father Tree, behold our grief! And when the trees resign their foliage, Loosing their leaves upon the cradling air Autumn - Poem by Rainer Maria Rilke. And I haven't any doubt Men boast when they give what they never may miss, Inviolable compact I shall smile when wreaths of snow And how sleep seems a goodly thing But ghosts of blackened hours still blow, Their tired spirits yearn In the hush and the lonely silence To strew the hollows of Eternity. On amberlucent autumn days. Or those strange blossoms the witch-hazels wear. Alas! Soon as the leaves Heard the wind's loud call, Down they came fluttering, One and all. And, thrashed from their cups, the ripe acorns descend, Old trees, your bright green, dancing leaves, where sunbeams loved to play, Old trees, ye will be desolate, and naked, and forlorn, And wither'd are the pale wild-flowers; I leave my dolly safe at home, TODAY! No cunning of man could such power bestow Next to nothing for color. Soon as the leaves Heard the wind's loud call, Down they came fluttering, One and all; Over the meadows They danced and flew, Singing the soft Little songs they knew. Whirling and swirling them And ere the leaves could urge their prayer, When the leaves are flying 16. Key this line and fill in the blank: “Soon, fast asleep in their earthy beds, The snow lay a ____________ o’er their heads.”. Spin o'er the moorlands into trackless space. 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