Katharine Tynan

Autumnal

THE Autumn leaves are dying quietly,
Scarlet and orange, underfoot they lie;
    They had their youth and prime
    And now's the dying time;
Alas, alas, the young, the beloved, must die!

They are dying like the leaves of Autumn fast,
Scattered and broken, blown on every blast:
    The darling young, the brave,
    Love had no power to save.
Poor Love-lies-bleeding, Love's in ruins, downcast.

Alas, alas, the Autumn leaves are flying!
They had their Summer and 'tis time for dying.
    But these had barely Spring.
    Love trails a broken wing,
Walks through deserted woods, moaning and sighing.