AUTUMN SONG .

I N Spring the Poet is glad,
And in Summer the Poet is gay;
But in Autumn the Poet is sad,
And has something sad to say:

For the Wind moans in the Wood,
And the Leaf drops from the Tree;
And the cold Rain falls on the graves of the Good,
And the cold Mist comes up from the Sea:

And the Autumn Songs of the Poet's soul
Are set to the passionate grief,
Of Winds that sough and Bells that toll,
The Dirge of the Falling Leaf.