Classic Poem

The fall is here, with its brown leaves falling
And its cold night winds kissing the flowers;
Soon the flowers will be dead and trees will be barren,
Then we will know that summer has fled.

And all nature around will seem asleep and forgotten;
Then the hearth by the fireside will welcome us home —
We can talk, we can ponder and think of the summer,
How we enjoyed the fragrance of its sweet-smelling bloom.

Alas! that is not all — the winter is coming
With its joy and its sorrow, its pleasure and pain,
And while wandering through winter with its snow storms and freezes
It seems but tomorrow that spring comes again.

Then spring-time appears, and is welcomed with gladness
By the bees and the birds and beasts of the field;
The flowers lift their heads to cheer man in his sadness,
And the birds sing sweet songs of the winter that has past.

Now our lives vary like the seasons in reason,
We are not all alike, and how could we be?
Some like the fall, always gloomy and chilly,
But once in awhile the sun shines in their home.

Now some like the winter — their lives are real stormy,
And it seems they are always looking for spring,
And they live in the hope of their spring-time coming;
And their winter will end like a dream on the wing.

Some like the spring, always glad and inviting,
And make all rejoice as they pass through this life,
And make one feel at home whene'er in their presence,
While waiting to welcome the summer to dawn.

Some like the summer, all gay like the flowers
That put out their blossoms in the sweet month of June,
And to meet them at home there is a glad hand of welcome
That makes one rejoice in their summer-like home.