See how the autumn leaves float by decaying,
    Down the wild swirls of the rain-swollen stream.
    So fleet the works of men, back to their earth again;
    Ancient and holy things fade like a dream.

    Nay! see the spring-blossoms steal forth a-maying,
    Clothing with tender hues orchard and glen;
    So, though old forms pass by, ne'er shall their spirit die,
    Look!    England's bare boughs show green leaf again.

    Eversley, 1848.

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