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Autumn is over the long leaves that love us, And over the mice in the barley sheaves; Yellow the leaves of the rowan above us, And yellow the wet wild-strawberry leaves.
The hour of the waning of love has beset us, And weary and worn are our sad souls now; Let us part, ere the season of passion forget us, With a kiss and a tear on thy drooping brow.
This poem is in the public domain.
About This Poem
"The Falling of the Leaves" was originally published as "Falling of the Leaves" in The Wanderings of Oisin and Other Poems (Kegan Paul, Trench & Co., 1889) and later appeared in Crossways (Kegan Paul, Trench & Co., 1889) and Poems (T. Fisher Unwin, 1895).
W. B. Yeats was born in Dublin, Ireland, in 1865. His collections of poetry include The Poetical Works of William B. Yeats (Macmillan, 1906) and The Wild Swans at Coole (Cuala Press, 1917). He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1923 and died in 1939.
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