Poems (Stephens)/The leaves

by Eliza Jane Stephens

For works with similar titles, see The Leaves.

THE LEAVES.

The Autumn wines were blowing
 With all their fearless might,
And make the hills and forests
 A sad and cheerless sight;

While thick along my pathway,
 The fading leaves were seen,
With hues much like the rainbow.
 Instead of simple green:

And as I slowly walked along
 Upon this carpet fair,
Thinking of castles here om earth,
 Or building some in air;

I saw a leaf both bright and green,
 Still clinging to a tree,
Instinctively I paused awhile.
 To note its destiny.

When lo! a sudden gust of wind
 Soon snapped it from the stem,
And fresher than the other leaves,
 It lay along with them;

But scarce was it upon the ground
 Ere all were borne way—
I saw that in the chilly blast
 It fared the same as they.

And then I knew, what first I might,
 Had it but been my care,
That in the changes great for all,
 Each leaf must bear a share.

With us, methinks, 'tis much the same,
 Our life, though not as brief,
Has many changes, and as great
 As those that 'wait the leaf.

Though some may seem to be more blest
 Than others for awhile,
Have more of health, and more of wealth,
 And more of friendship's smile,

Yet soon beneath misfortune's blast,
 We see them sadly fall,
And then we learn that grief and change,
 Alike await us all.