T is a morn in Autumn time,
A morn to me most dear,
Though Spring's first bloom has passed away,
And Summer flowers are sere.
LINES.
T is a morn in Autumn time,A morn to me most dear,
Though Spring's first bloom has passed away,
And Summer flowers are sere.
But though the year's green youth is gone,
Yet, o'er her matron brow,
This one bright hour to me can shed
A light unknown till now.
Yet, o'er her matron brow,
This one bright hour to me can shed
A light unknown till now.
And wherefore? Dearest! thou canst tell
Why glad should be the day
That first beheld thy dawn of life,
Thy being's opening ray.
Why glad should be the day
That first beheld thy dawn of life,
Thy being's opening ray.
For since together we have trod
Our mingled pathway here,
This morn has ever seemed to me
The brightest of the year.
Our mingled pathway here,
This morn has ever seemed to me
The brightest of the year.
And yet, sometimes a gentle shade
Will steal across that sky,
Blent of the future and the past,
Of hope and memory.
Will steal across that sky,
Blent of the future and the past,
Of hope and memory.
For who can think without a sigh,
Of happy years gone past,
In love unchanged by grief or care,
Firmer for every blast!
Of happy years gone past,
In love unchanged by grief or care,
Firmer for every blast!
Or ponder o'er the days to come,
Without an anxious heart,
That trusts for blessings, but still fears
To see some joy depart.
Without an anxious heart,
That trusts for blessings, but still fears
To see some joy depart.
Yet still, my best beloved! while thou
And thy dear love are mine,
This earth can never dreary seem,
This heart can ne'er repine!
And thy dear love are mine,
This earth can never dreary seem,
This heart can ne'er repine!
Dost thou not, Dearest! feel how swift
Days seem to hurry past,
Till each successive year appears
More shortlived than the last?
Days seem to hurry past,
Till each successive year appears
More shortlived than the last?
For since the hour that made us one,
Though life its cares must bring,
Yet time has ever seemed to me
To fly on swiftest wing.
Though life its cares must bring,
Yet time has ever seemed to me
To fly on swiftest wing.
And but for those sweet little ones
That rising round us come,
I scarce could think four wedded years
Had glided o'er our home.
That rising round us come,
I scarce could think four wedded years
Had glided o'er our home.
But their glad voices, soft and clear,
Their tiny footsteps' sound,
Tell that old Time is pacing on
His sure though silent round.
Their tiny footsteps' sound,
Tell that old Time is pacing on
His sure though silent round.
A thousand blessings rest on them;
And mayst thou live to see
Heaven's choicest gift, thy children prove
A crown of bliss to thee!
And mayst thou live to see
Heaven's choicest gift, thy children prove
A crown of bliss to thee!
And thou, dear Love, more dear than e'en
Those little ones to me,
May every blessing God can give
Thine earthly portion be:
Those little ones to me,
May every blessing God can give
Thine earthly portion be:
And every birthday find us hound
In fonder, holier love;
Treading the path of duty here,
With hearts and hopes above!
In fonder, holier love;
Treading the path of duty here,
With hearts and hopes above!
E.
October 6, 1841.
