As fall the leaves, so drop the days
In silence from the tree of life;
Born for a little while to blaze
In action in the heat of strife,
And then to shrivel with Time's blast
And fade forever in the past.
In beauty once the leaf was seen;
To all it offered gentle shade;
Men knew the splendor of its green
What cheered them so, would quickly fade:
And quickly, too, must pass away
All that is splendid of to-day.
To try to keep the leaves were vain,
Men understand that they must fall;
Why should they bitterly complain
When sorrows come to one and all?
Why should they mourn the passing day
That must depart along the way?
Edgar Guest
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