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.