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The Autumn Morning

Clive Staples Lewis 1898 (Clive Staples Lewis Belfast) – 1963 (Oxford)

See! the pale autumn dawn
Is faint, upon the lawn
  That lies in powdered white
  Of hoar-frost dight

And now from tree to tree
The ghostly mist we see
  Hung like a silver pall
  To hallow all.

It wreathes the burdened air
So strangely everywhere
  That I could almost fear
  This silence drear

Where no one song-bird sings
And dream that wizard things
  Mighty for hate or love
  Were close above.

White as the fog and fair
Drifting through the middle air
  In magic dances dread
  Over my head.

Yet these should know me too
Lover and bondman true,
  One that has honoured well
  The mystic spell

Of earth’s most solemn hours
Wherein the ancient powers
  Of dryad, elf, or faun
  Or leprechaun

Oft have their faces shown
To me that walked alone
  Seashore or haunted fen
  Or mountain glen

Wherefore I will not fear
To walk the woodlands sere
  Into this autumn day
  Far, far away.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

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Clive Staples Lewis

Clive Staples Lewis was a British novelist, poet, academic, medievalist, literary critic, essayist, lay theologian, broadcaster, lecturer, and Christian apologist. He held academic positions at both Oxford University and Cambridge University. more…

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