4385866Poems — When the Leaves are turning brownElizabeth Chase Allen
WHEN THE LEAVES ARE TURNING BROWN.
EVER is my heart so gayIn the budding month of May, Never does it beat a tune Half so sweet in bloomy June, Never knows such happiness As on such a day as this, When October dons her crown, And the leaves are turning brown.
Breathe, sweet children, soft regrets For the vanished violets; Sing, young lovers, the delights Of the golden summer nights;—Never in the sunnier hours On my way such radiance showers As from heaven falls softly down, When the leaves are turning brown.
Braid your girdles, fresh and gay, Children, in the bloom of May;Twist your chaplets in young June, Maidens,—they will fade full soon; Twine ripe roses, July-red, Lovers, for the dear one's head;—I will weave my richer crown When the leaves are turning brown!
EVER is my heart so gayIn the budding month of May, Never does it beat a tune Half so sweet in bloomy June, Never knows such happiness As on such a day as this, When October dons her crown, And the leaves are turning brown. 
EVER is my heart so gayIn the budding month of May, Never does it beat a tune Half so sweet in bloomy June, Never knows such happiness As on such a day as this, When October dons her crown, And the leaves are turning brown. 