  When leaves grow sear, all things take somber hue; The wild winds waltz no more the woodside through, And all the faded grass is wet with dew. The forest’s cheeks are crimsoned o’er with shame, The cynic frost enlaces every lane, The ground with scarlet blushes is aflame. The ripened nuts drop downward day by day, Sounding the hollow tocsin of decay, And bandit squirrels smuggle them away. Inconstant Summer to the tropics flees, And, as her rose sails catch the amorous breeze, Lo! bare, brown Autumn trembles to her knees. The stealthy nights encroach upon the days, The earth with sudden whiteness is ablaze, And all her paths are lost in crystal maze. With blooms full-sapped again will smile the land, The Fall is but the folding of His hand, Anon with fuller glories to expand. So shall the truant bluebirds backward fly, And all loved things that vanish or that die Return to us in some sweet by and by. |
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