Classic Poem

'T IS autumn now;
And as we part,
The dry brown leaf
Is rustling o'er the ground;
Making the sadness sadder, and the cloud
Of the long farewell deeper in its gloom.

Not thus let us meet;
Mid falling leaves
And sere, frost-stricken flowers;
But when the leaf is budding in its freshness,
And the rich blossom putting forth its gladness.
Not thus let us meet;
It is too sad;
But when the buried verdure
Is coming up to meet the joyous sun,
When the new spring looks round upon the hills,
Full of youth's buoyant promise and bright song,
Then let us meet.
Yes, when the spring-breeze blows,
And the gay garden blooms,
And the wide forest waves with budding green,
And the freed streamlet warbles through the broom,
And the clear air takes up the happy note
Of skylark singing to the rosy dawn,
Then let us meet;
And meeting, cheer each other's weary heart
With the dear hope of everlasting spring,
And the fair land that spreads beneath the slopes
Of the eternal hills,
Where nothing dies;
Where nothing fades;
But all is without ending or decay,
The sky, the sun, the light,
The peace, the truth, the love,
And above all, the joy!