Skip to main content
  1. Home
  2. Published Writings
  3. Leaves of Grass
  4. 1891
  5. ppp.00707_01050

You Lingering Sparse Leaves of Me.

YOU LINGERING SPARSE LEAVES OF ME.

You lingering sparse leaves of me on winter-nearing boughs, And I some well-shorn tree of field or orchard-row; You tokens diminute and lorn—(not now the flush of May, or  
 July clover-bloom—no grain of August now;) You pallid banner-staves—you pennants valueless—you over- 
 stay'd of time, Yet my soul-dearest leaves confirming all the rest, The faithfulest—hardiest—last.
Back to top