In autumn-tide I walked a trail
Of leaves fresh from a fall-
Some chilling gust of winter's gale
Had plucked them one and all.
And there they shivered on the grass-
The grass turned white with frost-
Surprised to see that spring had passed,
And summer's glory lost.
Like flecks of sunlight from the sky-
In gold and orange and red-
They lay remembering the heights,
Where treetops toss their heads.
So scattered by the wind and rain
These jewels of autumn lie-
They watch the harvesting moon wane
And speak of passing time.