AUTUMN.
Sweet summer, with her flowers, has past:
I hear her parting knell;
I hear the moaning, fitful blast,
Sighing a sad farewell.
I hear her parting knell;
I hear the moaning, fitful blast,
Sighing a sad farewell.
But, while she fades, and dies away,
In rainbow hues she glows;
Like the last smile of parting day,
Still brightening as she goes.
In rainbow hues she glows;
Like the last smile of parting day,
Still brightening as she goes.
The robin whistles clear and shrill;
Sad is the cricket's song;
The wind, wild, rushing o'er the hill,
Bears the dead leaf along.
Sad is the cricket's song;
The wind, wild, rushing o'er the hill,
Bears the dead leaf along.
I love this sober, solemn time,
This twilight of the year;
To me, sweet spring, in all her prime,
Was never half so dear.
This twilight of the year;
To me, sweet spring, in all her prime,
Was never half so dear.
