Autumn Song, An

Autumn skies are cold and gloomy,
Mournful winds begin to sigh,
Withered leaves float slowly downward,
Lingering flowers fade and die;
Nature's summer work is over,
Her rich harvests garnered lie,
And she rests content and grateful,
Heedless of the sombre sky.
Trusting in the future spring-time,
Greeting winter without fear,
Musing gladly o'er past labors,
In the twilight of the year;
While her cheerful heart finds music
In the melancholy wind,
And the thought of summer lingers
Like a sunbeam left behind.

The autumn of your life, mother,
Brings its shadow to your sky,
Cherished hopes like pale leaves wither,
Memories like sad winds sigh.
Now your summer work is over;
Time's frosts your flowers kill;
But the store-house of the future
Richest harvests surely fill.
Lone enduring, brave endeavor,
Through long years of care and strife,
Bring their sweet reward to comfort
All the twilight hours of life.
There can fall no snow of winter,
There can blow no bitter wind,
Where such memories warmly linger
Like a sunbeam left behind.
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