Classic Poem

The Leaves begin to fall,
And Winter's coming on;
And so I think it is with me,—
The spring of Life is gone.

I, like the Leaf must fall,
And moulder in the Dust;
Yet do I hope, thro' Christ my Lord,
To rise amongst the Just.

Yes, rise to endless Joys,
My Saviour dear to see;
This Soul and Body then again
Will close united be.

Why should I wish to stay?
Have I no Friends that's dear,
That will convey me to the Dust,
And drop a falling Tear?

My Brother may, I think,
When that from hence I'm gone;
BuThe's a Wife and Children dear,
To set his Love upon.

Dearer than any Friend,
Will Jesus be to me;
When that without a Glass between,
His lovely Face I see.