Autumn Voices
Slowly the colors burn:
Their glowing hearts must fall to ashen brown,
And flicker out and into shadows turn;
But then the gentle snow will flutter down,
A soft, white sleep will fall,
And cover all—
Their glowing hearts must fall to ashen brown,
And flicker out and into shadows turn;
But then the gentle snow will flutter down,
A soft, white sleep will fall,
And cover all—
That long, long, quiet sleep
That falls upon all death from out the sky.
Heaven tenderly our fallen leaves will keep;
They do not die, they only seem to die.
So pray I it may be
With me, with me.
That falls upon all death from out the sky.
Heaven tenderly our fallen leaves will keep;
They do not die, they only seem to die.
So pray I it may be
With me, with me.
60