While one sere leaf, that parting Autumn gilds,
Trembles upon the thin, and naked spray,
November, dragging on his sunless day,
Lours, cold and fallen, on the watry fields;
And Nature to the waste dominion yields,
Stript her last robes, with gold and purple gay. -
So droops my life, of your soft beams despoil'd,
Youth, Health, and Hope, that long exulting smil'd;
And the wild carols, and the bloomy hues
Of merry Spring-time, spruce on every plain
Her half-blown bushes, moist with sunny rain,
More pensive thoughts in my sunk heart infuse
Than Winter's grey, and desolate domain,
Faded, like my lost Youth, that no bright Spring renews.