Come not here to listen,
Come not here to see;
We but sing a broken song
Of a leaning tree.
We but sing a frail song
Like a leaf to droop
A moment over dark earth.
Feel a great tree stoop
With the weight of splendor.
Come not here for grief
And come not for gladness.
Feel the hanging leaf,
Twisted and discolored
Where it once was fair.
Know the feeling of the branch
That quivers on the air.