An airy mist from cloud and sky,
Within, their perfume over all,
The buds in rosy fragrance lie.
The pale acacia’s tinted gleams,
The white carnation’s heart of gold,
The phlox that grows beside the streams
That gem the forests dim and old.
I wonder when life’s spring is past,
And snows are falling soft as now,
When autumn glories fade at last,