I never cared for autumn in the happy days gone by, When all the leaves came whirling down that enrtain'd out the sky; The lady-birch might lose her charms, so woo'd in summer's prime, And every giant arm be stripp'd that I had loved to climb. But merry was my loud laugh, and joyously I stood Ankle deep in dead leaves amid the misty wood; Dancing with the spectre things—Autumn preach'd in vain, For I knew that green leaves would soon come again.
Now I stand and see the boughs of Human Life get bare, I hear the wail of Sorrow's breath through branches bright and fair; And down come leaves of Joy and Love, all thickly strewn around, And blossoms that were topmost borne are on the lowest ground. But no laugh is on my lip, no light is on my brow; I cannot smile as once I did,—I am not dancing now. Heart deep in dead leaves, Spring will come in vain; For the trees that now are bare, will ne'er be green again.
