Sara Teasdale — Love in Autumn

I sought among the drifting leaves,   The golden leaves that once were green, To see if Love were hiding there   And peeping out between. For thro' the silver showers of May   And thro' the summer's heavy heat, In vain I sought his golden head   And light, fast-flying feet. Perhaps when all the world is bare   And cruel winter holds the land, The Love that finds no place to hide   Will run and catch my hand. I shall not care to have him then,   I shall be bitter and a-cold— It grows too late for frolicking   When all the world is old. Then little hiding Love, come forth,   Come forth before the autumn goes, And let us seek thro' ruined paths   The garden's last red rose.