The leaves though thick are falling; one by oneDecayed they drop from off their parent tree;Their work with autumn's latest day is done,Thou see'st them borne upon its breezes free;They lie strewn here and there, their many dyesThat yesterday so caught thy passing eye;Soiled by the rain each leaf neglected lies,Upon the path where now thou hurriest by;Yet think thou not their beauteous tints less fairThan when they hung so gayly o'er thy head;But rather find thou eyes, with looking thereWhere now thy feet so heedless o'er them tread;And thou shalt see, where wasting now they lie,The unseen hues of immortality.
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Autumn Leaves
written byJones Very
© Jones Very
