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CANADIAN AUTUMN TINTS.
13
And love sees, broken-hearted,
The fate that's pictured there.
The fate that's pictured there.
The brush that paints so brightly
No mortal artist wields;
He touches all things lightly,
But sweeps the broadest fields.
The fairest flowers are chosen
To wither at his breath;
The hand is cold and frozen
That paints those hues of death.
No mortal artist wields;
He touches all things lightly,
But sweeps the broadest fields.
The fairest flowers are chosen
To wither at his breath;
The hand is cold and frozen
That paints those hues of death.
We wandered back together,
With hearts but ill at ease,
In mellow autumn weather,
Past autumn-tinted trees;
The breath of soft September
Left fragrance in the air,
And well we both remember
The love that ended there.
With hearts but ill at ease,
In mellow autumn weather,
Past autumn-tinted trees;
The breath of soft September
Left fragrance in the air,
And well we both remember
The love that ended there.
