What though my years are falling like thy leaves,

[ZaunköniG]

What though my years are falling like thy leaves,
Oh, Autumn! When the winds are plumed with night--
They have thy colors, thy enameled light,
And all the fullness of thy ripened sheaves.
Of verdant joys aggressive Time bereaves,
And the glad transports of unclouded dawn;
But though the shadows deepen on Life's lawn,
Rays of serene and solemn beauty shed
A mellow lustre on my fading hours,
And with a calm and tempered joy I tread
Paths still bedecked with iridescent flowers--
Like thine, oh, Autumn! ere the sober gray
Of Winter steals thy glorious tints away.