Falling Leaves

Hail falling leaves that patter round
Admonishers & friends
Reflection wakens at the sound
—So life thy pleasure ends
How frail the bloom how short the stay
That terminates us all
To day we flourish green & gay
Like leaves tomorrow fall

Alas how short is fourscore years
Lifes utmost stretch—a span
& shorter still when past apears
The vain, vain life of man
These falling leaves once flaunted high
O pride how vain to trust
Now witherd on the ground they lye
To mingle with the dust

So death serves all—& wealth & pride
Must all their pomp resign
Een kings shall lay their crowns aside
To mix their dust wi' mine!
—The leaves how once they cloath'd the trees
Nones left behind to tell
The branch is naked to the breeze
Nor known from whence they fell

A few more years as they—the same
Are now I then shall be
With nothing left to tell my name
Or answer—‘who was he?’
Green turfs alow'd forgotten heaps
Is all that I shall have
Save that the little daisy creeps
To deck my humble Grave

Poems Descriptive of Rural Life and Scenery (1820)

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