Autumn

From shy expectancy to burgeoning,
     From burgeoning to ripeness and decline,
    The seasons run their various course and bring
     Again at last the sober days benign.
    And spring's pied garland, worn for Beauty's sake,
     And summer's crown of pride, less fair appear
    Than the subdued, enchanted tints that make
     The aureole of the senescent year.

    So grows the good man old - meek, glad, sublime;
     More lovely than in all his youthful bloom,
    Grander than in the vigor of his prime,
     He lights with radiance life's autumnal gloom,
    And through the fading avenue of Time
     Walks in triumphal glory to his tomb.