THE FALL OF THE LEAF.

Earnest and sad the solemn tale

That the sighing winds give back,

Scatt'ring the leaves with mournful wail

O'er the forest's faded track;

Gay summer birds have left us now

For a warmer, brighter clime,

Where no leaden sky or leafless bough

Tell of change and winter-time.

Reapers have gathered golden store

Of maize and ripened grain,

And they'll seek the lonely fields no more

Till the springtide comes again.

But around the homestead's blazing hearth

Will they find sweet rest from toil,

And many an hour of harmless mirth

While the snow-storm piles the soil.

Then, why should we grieve for summer skies —

For its shady trees — its flowers,

Or the thousand light and pleasant ties

That endeared the sunny hours?

A few short months of snow and storm,

Of winter's chilling reign,

And summer, with smiles and glances warm,

Will gladden our earth again.