Autumn—The Fall of the Leaf

  by: S. Moore

Summer’s lovely meadows green,
Sylvan shades and fairy bowers,
Dewy dawns and eves serene,
Balmy air and pretty flowers,—
All these sweets will soon be gone,
Fading, dying one by one.

 

Autumn breathes a colder breath,
Warning us of winter’s chill—
Nature passes on to death,
Beautiful in dying still,—
Cheeks aglowing in decay,
Blushing as they fade away.

 

Could there be a grander sight,
Than our forests’ rainbow tints,
Glancing, changing in the light,
Fairer far than colour’d prints,—
Surely death cannot be grief,
To that rosy maple leaf.

 

Emblem of my fleeting days,
Verdant, change, frail and brief,—
O! that as my strength decays,
I may show the maple leaf—
Fair in every passing stage,
Still more beautiful in age.

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