(Tom Thomson, member of Canadian painters The Group of Seven – The Pool, an Autumn scene)
From all around the mourners came
The day that Summer died,
From hill and valley, field and wood
And lane and mountainside.
They did not come in funeral black
But every mourner chose
Gorgeous colours or soft shades
Of russet, yellow, rose.
Horse chestnut, oak and sycamore
Wore robes of gold and red;
The rowan sported scarlet beads;
No bitter tears were shed.
Although at dusk the mourners heard,
As a small wind softly sighed,
A touch of sadness in the air
The day that Summer died.
(Vernon Scannell 1922-2007 - from ‘101 Favourite poems: Poets pick their favourite poems’ – chosen by John Foster – pub. Collins)
Daily Telegraph obituary for Scannell’s death on 17 November 2007
hi,
I really enjoyed reading this poem, Autumn is my favourite time of year and the picture very beautiful
:)
Megan – glad you enjoyed it. Its a lovely and simple descriptive poem originally written for children. If possible, I try to find a good picture to fit the poems I include – preferably a painting rather than a photo.
I love this poem too – and autumn. Some of VS’s poems are darker, for instance the one about the old schoolmaster. A small point: maybe I’m wrong here, but I thought it was ‘lake and mountainside’. No matter: it’s a lovely poem, and a favourite of my friend who teaches English with lots and lots of poetry.
Tom
Thanks for your comment. I dont really know Scannell’s work well but this is lovely. I have checked back to the book from which I copied the poem. It definitely says ‘lane’ rather than ‘lake’ but it could be a printing mistake. I have Googled but I can’t find another copy of this on the web. Perhaps your friend could enlighten us!
Dear Hope Eternal,
If I can find out – it’s proving harder than I thought – I’ll definitely post a response. Odd that such a lovely poem (I thought it was well-known) should be so hard to track down.
I suppose autumn colours are more likely in a lane than a lake but then again lakes and mountains go together.
Another such spelling mistake occurred in a WB Yeats poem: the story goes that an academic reading ‘rustling hedgerows’ thought “I bet Yeats wouldn’t write something so trite”. He paused to look it up in another edition and, sure enough, it should have been ‘rusting hedgerows’.
Best wishes,
Tom
I would hate to perpetuate a mistake. Tom’s help is much appreciated with this and I look forward to hearing back from him.
i love the paintings!