The Chase

From ImmortalPoetry
Jump to navigationJump to search

by Paul Laurence Dunbar

The wind told the little leaves to hurry,
And chased them down the way,
While the mother tree laughed loud in glee,
For she thought her babes at play.

The cruel wind and the rain laughed loudly,
We’ll bury them deep, they said,
And the old tree grieves, and the little leaves
Lie low, all chilled and dead.

Add your comment
ImmortalPoetry welcomes all comments. If you do not want to be anonymous, register or log in. It is free.