The breeze that whispered light and brief
To bud or blossom, kissed the leaf;
When o’er the leaf the tempest flew,
The bud and blossom trembled too.
But its companions passed away,
And left the leaf to lone decay.
The gentle gales of spring went by,
The fruits and flowers of summer die.
The autumn winds swept o’er the hill,
And winter’s breath came cold and chill.