Autumn - Caprice
The warm sun is failing
The bleak wind is wailing
The bare boughs are sighing;
The pale flowers are dying
Come months come away
From November to May
In your saddest array;
Follow the bier
Of the dead cold year
Come months come away
From November to May
In your saddest array;
Follow the bier
Of the dead cold year
The chill rain is falling;
The night worm is crawling
The rivers are swelling
The thunder is knelling
The blithe swallows are flown
And the lizards each gone
And the earth's a deathbed
In a shroud of leaves dead
Come months come away
From November to May
In your saddest array;
Follow the bier
Of the dead cold year
Come months come away
From November to May
In your saddest array;
Follow the bier
Of the dead cold year
