MOUNT AUBURN IN AUTUMN.
I love to mark the falling leaf,
To watch the waning moon;
I love to cherish the belief
That all will change so soon.
To watch the waning moon;
I love to cherish the belief
That all will change so soon.
I love to see the beauteous flowers
In bright succession pass,
As they would deck life's fleeting hours,
And hide his ebbing glass.
In bright succession pass,
As they would deck life's fleeting hours,
And hide his ebbing glass.
I love the rushing wind to hear
Through the dismantled trees,
And shed the sadly soothing tear
O'er joys that fled like these.
Through the dismantled trees,
And shed the sadly soothing tear
O'er joys that fled like these.
I love to think this glorious earth
Is but a splendid tomb,
Whence man to an immortal birth
Shall rise in deathless bloom;—
Is but a splendid tomb,
Whence man to an immortal birth
Shall rise in deathless bloom;—
That nothing on its bosom dies,
But all in endless change
Shall in some brighter form arise,
Some purer region range.
But all in endless change
Shall in some brighter form arise,
Some purer region range.
