Observe the leaves thru the seasons’ wear,
As they ever so gracefully age;
For their withering they possess no care,
Nor lament their final stage.
Such vibrant green are they when young,
And spring has come anew;
They listen, content, as songs are sung
By the birds of every hue.
Dear summer finds their colour deepened,
For older they have grown;
Yet their lively spirits have not weakened,
Tho’ livid winds have blown.
Autumn arrives with her shadow of death,
Her victims a bright array;
For their tones are finest in waning breath:
The red, the yellow, the clay.
When winter hails she finds them sleeping,
In graves of frost so thin;
But in their dying hours came no weeping,
For spring must come again.
So follow the leaves thru the seasons’ wear,
Friend, and ever so gracefully age;
For your changing visage possess no care,
For life is beautiful in every stage.