1. In The Autumn Summertime's songsters forsake now the gladding; Where once their melodies rang from the boughs, Autumn already so plaintively soughs Stirring the last of their yellow-leaved lading. Here where the carpet of blossom was blend, Jewelling the fragrant green sward with its treasure, Summer's farewell sounds a tremulous measure, Straw for its strings now, a lyric lament! Lily, why left you your stem here, but bending, Bared of its leafage, where hence did you flee? O, you'll return in the springtime-to-be, On the kind angel of summer attending! Rose, from whose beauteous chalice would trill Joy's dulcet language that whispered so fairly, Thorns are the memory left with us merely, Wounding, but ah, but I love you so, still! Many a seed from the spring-time plantations We have seen ripen, its fruitfulness flaunt; O, but there's many a plot that can vaunt Naught but the husks of its high expectations. Summer! Too swift for the south you were bound, Hope soon departed, too brief was its hour, Ah, and the mourner is left with no flower Modestly gracing the grave's hallowed mound. Yet, midst the graves there is one bloom remaining Living in all of its loveliness still, One that the autumn’s cold blast could not kill; O, why need heart, then, prolong its complaining! Memory we call it, see, still it can bring Hope from the rigors of hibernation, Bind it in wreaths for the Past's celebration, It will give solace, presaging a spring! 2. Autumn Evening Getting dark, look, raindrops keep Lashing at the window- panning, Blend with winds that howl, complaining, As across the heavens sweep Cloudy shapes, — like apparitions From Death's realm, mute admonitions; As far thunder rumbles, so They approach, withdraw and vanish, Much as fickle maids' hearts banish Memories of a recent beau. Close against the stove I'm curled, Brooding as the lightning's starkness Leaves the room in semi-darkness; But to me it is a world, Where, amongst the coal's dark crannies Dreams of mine, ethereal mannies, Build a palace all aglow; (Hard to find the like, though, really; For within the walls I see the Loyalty young maidens show!) Ha, what setting have we here! Can it be my long-since vanished? Childhood days my heart's ne'er banished That begin to reappear? Or has (would that I might see it) Distance's dark veil, albeit In a random, hasty style, Here been twitched aside, you reckon? Does the Norn of Future Beckon? With a kind or warning smile? But it's cold reality I wake up to from my dreaming; Down it comes, the rain's still teeming, Palace, that's collapsed I see. What a bleak, unhappy session, Spells like these can breed depression, Cause the heart to feel inclined To feel sorely what it's lacking; Company? — There's little backing There for a depressive mind! Just as each man has his own, So I too have my adored one! Ah, but no mundane and flawed one Is the She who's mine alone? Just a vision-dream, high-lighted By a yearning unrequited, Unequitable I fear! (What if love's desire, once risen, Stifled in the heart's close prison, Just, like her, a nice idea!) Come, O come, my heart's ideal! At your side I'll service render, From your glance, so kind, so tender, I shall seek cool balms to heal The desires that so devour me, That my day-dreams nourish hourly, That will, never quenched it seems, Only learn to glow discreetly When I chance on earth to meet thee, Spirit-bride of all my dreams! ***