Page:Poems Toke.djvu/65

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57

It glances on the mountain's crest,
And shines upon the fading leaves;
Falls on the water's sparkling breast,
And gilds each ripple as it heaves.

And yet, 'tis sad to see that beam
Smile on the wan and pallid flowers,
And gild again, with transient gleam,
The wreck of Summer's joyous hours.

The falling leaves bestrew my path,
The earth her garb of mourning wears:
And e'en the breeze's whispering breath
A tone of gentle sadness bears.

It is a melancholy hour;—
Oh! who on such an Autumn day
Jut deeply feels the oppressive power
Of Nature's touching, calm decay?

Silent and still she sinks to rest,
Majestic in her hour of woe;
And soon upon her dreary breast
Will fall the shroud of wintry snow.

But all unmoved, though reft and lorn,
She stands to meet her yearly doom;
And calmly waits, till Spring's bright morn
Shall burst upon her icy tomb.

For see! amid the wreck of all
Which decked awhile her glorious fame,
Brightly the changeless sunbeams full,
A pledge that she shall rise again.