What is that?…Nothing;
The leaves must fall, and falling, rustle;
That is all;
They are dead
As they fall, –
Dead at the foot of the tree;
All that can be is said. ...
What is it? …Nothing;

What is that?…Nothing;
A wild thing hurt but mourns in the night
And it cries
In its dread
Till it lies
Dead at the foot of the tree;
All that can be is said
What is it? …Nothing;

What is that? …Ah!
A marching slow of unseen feet
That is all:
But a bier, spread
With a pall
Is now at the foot of the tree;
All that could be said;
Is it… what. …Nothing