^UTUMN, 
7k HINE, Autumn, is unwelcome lore— 
To tell the world its pomp is o’er : 
To whisper in the. Rose’s ear 
That all her beauty is no more ; 
A queen deposed, she quits her state : 
The nightingales her fall deplore ; 
The hundred-voiced bird may woo 
The thousand-leafed flower no more. 
The piping winds sing Nature's dirge, 
As through the forest bleak they roar ; 
Whose leafy screen, like locks of eld. 
Each day shows scantier than before. 
Thou fadest as a flower, O Man ! 
Of food for musing here is store. 
O Man! thou fallest as a leaf: 
Pace thoughtfully Earth’s leaf-strewn floor; 
Welcome the sadness of the time, 
And lay to heart this natural lore. 
Richard C. Trench. 
