Here you will find the Poem Lines To A Withered Leaf Seen On A Poet's Table of poet Jones Very
Poet's hand has placed thee there, Autumn's brown and withered scroll! Though to outward eye not fair, Thou hast beauty for the soul, Though no human pen has traced On that leaf its learned lore, Love divine the page has graced,? What can words discover more? Not alone dim Autumn's blast Echoes from yon tablet sear,? Distant music of the Past Steals upon the poet's ear. Voices sweet of summer hours, Spring's soft whispers murmur by; Feathered songs from leafy bowers Draw his listening soul on high.
