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.

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