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There 's the beauteous Woodbine drooping,
 For all its vivid hues are gone;
Yon tall Hollyhock is stooping,
 As if 'twere mourning glories flown.

Here the lovely gay Carnation
 Withering, lies upon the ground,
No more balmy sweets diffusing
 To the zephyrs hovering round.

How dreary is the scene become,
 Lately beauteous, bright, and blooming;
Sweet smiling Summer now is gone;
 Autumn tells that Winter 's coming:

But then will lovely Spring appear,
 And bring new life to all again;
And Summer's sun shall dry the tear
 That Autumn wept when Winter came