Maple and sumach down this autumn ride -- Look, in what scarlet character they speak! For this their russet and rejoicing week Trees spend a year of sunsets on their pride. You leaves drenched with the lifeblood of the year -- What flamingo dawns have wavered from the east, What eves have crimsoned to their toppling crest To give the fame and transience that you wear! Leaf-low he shall lie soon: but no such blaze Briefly can cheer man's ashen, harsh decline; His fall is short of pride, he bleeds within And paler creeps to the dead end of his days. O light's abandon and the fire-crest sky Speak in me now for all who are to die! |