The Last Leaf. Oliver Wendell Holmes (1809-1894). III. Adversity. Bliss Carman, et al., eds. 1904. The World's Best Poetry. III. Sorrow and Consolation

Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry.
Volume III. Sorrow and Consolation. 1904.

III. Adversity

The Last Leaf

Oliver Wendell Holmes (1809–1894)


I SAW him once before,
As he passed by the door;
And again
The pavement-stones resound
As he totters o’er the ground	5
With his cane.

They say that in his prime,
Ere the pruning-knife of time
Cut him down,
Not a better man was found	10
By the crier on his round
Through the town.

But now he walks the streets,
And he looks at all he meets
So forlorn;	15
And he shakes his feeble head,
That it seems as if he said,
“They are gone.”

The mossy marbles rest
On the lips that he had pressed	20
In their bloom;
And the names he loved to hear
Have been carved for many a year
On the tomb.

My grandmamma has said—	25
Poor old lady! she is dead
Long ago—
That he had a Roman nose,
And his cheek was like a rose
In the snow.	30

But now his nose is thin,
And it rests upon his chin
Like a staff;
And a crook is in his back,
And the melancholy crack	35
In his laugh.

I know it is a sin
For me to sit and grin
At him here,
But the old three-cornered hat,	40
And the breeches,—and all that,
Are so queer!

And if I should live to be
The last leaf upon the tree
In the spring,	45
Let them smile, as I do now,
At the old forsaken bough
Where I cling.