THE WANING YEAR.
THE year is waning, waning
I feel its close draw near;
A murmur of complaining
In all earth's sounds I hear,
That saith, The year is waning;
And sighs, O waning year!
I feel its close draw near;
A murmur of complaining
In all earth's sounds I hear,
That saith, The year is waning;
And sighs, O waning year!
All garnered is its glory,
Its fulness and its might;
The ghostly fields lie hoary
Seen in the early light;
The threads of summer's story
Are lost to touch and sight.
Its fulness and its might;
The ghostly fields lie hoary
Seen in the early light;
The threads of summer's story
Are lost to touch and sight.
But memories grow dearer
When falls the latest leaf;
And many things grow clearer
To eyes made dim by grief;
And hidden things seem nearer
Because the days are brief.
When falls the latest leaf;
And many things grow clearer
To eyes made dim by grief;
And hidden things seem nearer
Because the days are brief.
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