Song for the Season

"What with a glory comes and goes the year."

Autumn days are come again!

Autumn winds begin to blow;

Leaves are falling in the glen,

They are tossing to and fro,

In the valley, o'er the hill,

Up and down the open plain,

Rustling, whirling, dancing still, —

Oh! Autumn days are come again.

 

Autumn days are come again!

Frosts have touch'd the Summer bowers;

Blooming Rose! I look in vain

To see thee still the Queen of Flowers;

The Dahlia rears her stately head,

Nor fears a rival to her sway;

The fairest now, since thou are dead,

Of all the flowers that pass away!

 

Autumn days are come again!

Birds have ceased their merry notes,

Cooing dove and busy wren,

Wander now far, far remote;

The woodland choir I hear no more,

Though every tree had once its voice,

The meadow minstrelsy is o'er,

And larks no longer there rejoice.

 

Autumn days are come again!

I know not well to laugh or sigh,

To see the fated year so vain,

Put on gorgeous robes to die.

Shine out, fair sun, and gild his way,

E'en as thou dids't upon his birth;

Then, like a tender parent, lay

Him gently, gently in the earth!

November 5, 1850. Huntingdon Journal 15(43): 1.