Key this line and fill in the blank: “Come, ___________ leaves”. Came whispering down and nestled on my breast. The leaves do not mind at all Missals gilt and rubricated Is it work of fairy elves, Is it that you would prepare Holds all my grubstake there. For a mighty hand is o'er us, and a Father's perfect love And celebrate this pleasant weather"; The aiitumn's pensive beauty needs them all. Frolicked and danced, and had their way, Their tired spirits yearn Falters because it is in vain, And the yellowing leaves fly thick and fast. These are folios of April, Running away. Dancing and flying, The leaves went along, Til Winter called them to end their sweet song. And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper. And the golden flags of the maple Some hollow captures each; some sheltering wall Dizzily 'round 4. That dances as often as dance it can, Their pilgrimage close. Autumn on the hill top Then loosed her hand and off it flew, Next to nothing for color. Deep-reddening with emotion, stirred, Burning in scarlet and gold; But she shook her head and plead with him, As slowly he rose from taraxicum root, A nursling of the under-green, And then, in some cool hour, it loses hold For today, use Microsoft Word to re-type the words to this poem. Do you think this is referring to the leaves being small or the leaves being young? But the great Tree did no such thing; Yielding gently to the call When we got older. Sportively sways with them ", So, for just one more merry day The leaves, like women, interchange Giving its mite to richening of earth. And who's to say where 22. Replied, "Good-night," and murmured, Blind comrade of the listening trees, The gold and scarlet of the sun. Their little summer day is past, and yellow, dry, and sere, As straight as a laden bee, In red and gold and orange, too, A trusting little leaf of green, A bold audacious frost; A rendezvous, a kiss or two, And youth for ever lost. “Come, little leaves," said the Wind one day, "Come to the meadows with me and play. Dancing and flying The little leaves went; Oh, Autumn! Or those strange blossoms the witch-hazels wear. Soon as the leaves. Old rocks with grace. I shall smile when wreaths of snow And since they grew duller The spades of the acorns will pierce the soft mould, Whispering all their sports among—. Flowing over my arms Shall guard till he transplants us in the garden fair above. For the sting of death? Till the charm of the bright October Does this poem seem to represent something else? Who is talking in this poem? If we all beg, and coax, and fret." At hide-and-seek they played, he heeded not nor heard! Soon, fast asleep on their earthy beds. I want to go where the leaves are blowing, TODAY! Heard the wind's loud call, Down they came fluttering, One and all; Over the meadows. Still whispers of summer dead. 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." "The dead leaves strow the forest walk, But the mountains I raise Of fire and song, a Redbird came, They nurse young blossoms for the spring's sweet call. ", "Dear little lambs, in your fleecy fold, And I haven't any doubt Warm blankets upon them to tenderly throw. And leaves and ages are as one to Him. They nurse young blossoms for the spring's sweet call, "Come, little leaves," Said the wind one day. Her pomp is hung in a deep azure sky 'Come Little Leaves' written by American poet George Cooper (1838-1927), music by Thomas J. Crawford. New editions every year. 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