Classic Poem

Wild geese, was it you that I heard in the Autumn crying, while leaves were flying?
Was it you I paused to watch in a northern zone,
As high in freezing flight through the falling twilight
You took your southward way with straining wing
To these warm everglade waters?

The wild-goose heart of me tells me so,
Though how it was I do not know!
The migrant heart of me—floating here
Like you amid reedy palms
And cypress knees and winter-tempered calms.