Autumn
Time, how soon you scatter Leaves of memory from autumn's bough;And Pan, how wild winds flutter Days of work, and hours musical.
Untiring in your striving, You built the budding leaves of fleeting June,The song birds sang the sweeter, Because you kept their happy notes in tune.
The shrine you built has fallen; Clad in stripings bright of red and gold,The leaf folk laughed in passing, Dancing now, they lightly trip the wold.
Not all the leaves forgot you, For sometimes in a little coat of brown,When winds paused in their flying, A tiny leaf came sadly floating down.
Page Twelve
