Page:Poems Greenwell.djvu/324

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
312
SONGS OF FAREWELL.
Will rise through the long sunny day
Above the flowery lea;
The deep and dreamy woods will own the slumbrous spell she weaves,
And send a greeting, mixed with sighs, through all their quivering leaves.
Oh, precious are her glowing gifts! and plenteous is she,
She bringeth all the lovely things that bright and fragrant be;
She scatters fulness' on the Earth with lavish hand and free,
But not for me, my friends,
But not for me!

Autumn will come again, dear friends,
His spirit-touch will be
With gold upon the harvest-field,
With crimson on the tree;
He passeth o'er the silent woods, they wither at his breath,
Slow fading in a still decay, a change that is not Death.
Oh! rich, and liberal, and wise, and provident is he!
He taketh to his Garner-house the things that ripened be;
He gathereth his store from Earth, all silently—
And he will gather me, my friends,
He will gather me!