SADNESS. 
DEAD LEAVES. 
As winter advances, the trees lose their 
verdure, after being despoiled of their fruits. 
The “fall of the leaf” is a pleasing period to 
all who love the study of nature, and seek to 
derive profit therefrom. James Montgomery 
has sung the falling leaf, and the lines con¬ 
tain sentiments so just that we introduce them 
here for the delight of our readers. 
Were I a trembling leaf 
On yonder stately tree, 
After a season, gay and brief, 
Condemned to fade and flee ; 
I should be loth to fall 
Beside the common way. 
Weltering in mire, and spurn’d by all 
Till trodden down to clay. 
Nor would I choose to die 
All on a bed of grass ; 
Where thousands of my kindred lie 
And idly rot in mass ; 
Nor would I like to spread 
My thin and wither’d face, 
In hortus siccus, pale and dead, 
A mummy of my race. 
No ! on the wings of air 
Might I be left to fly, 
I know not and 1 heed not where ; 
A waif of earth and sky! 
