Léonie Adams

This Severing

I turned as new resigned:
 
A summer gleaned, my business was within,
 
My charge the sober mind,
 
My care the wintry bin.
 
And found the boughs in stain,
 
Past-promise-hued. O not
 
Before, earnest as rich was yet so plain;
 
A harvest was ungot.
 
Beech drenching down my pathway goldenheart,
 
Ash, pensive light-cheek rose,
 
Both pluck the thought apart,
 
And meant you, heart, to close?
 
So fell the doomed farewells;
 
So, so looked forth a thing:
 
Regret, reproach, what else
 
Must baffle, vex, beguile this severing
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