  The autumn tints of these loved hills Outlined against the sky, Are dearer far to me this year Than in the years gone by; For they are colors Nature wears To celebrate the time When her pet child changed life on earth For that of heavenly clime. She thus rejoices, while our hearts Wear not their flowers of joy. Alas! could she but give us back Our gifted artist boy! But then she sees that it was best That he, like her, should know Death, and the Resurrection too, The fullest life to show. |
|
