Emblems

Falleth now from off a tree,
A wither'd leaf:
This the lesson taught to me —
Life is brief!
Hear it say,
"Mortal, soon thou'lt follow me
To decay!"
Droppeth now from ofT my head,
A silver hair:
Plainer preacher never said,
'' For death prepare! "
Fill'd with gloom,
We follow Time with solemn tread,
To the tomb.
Mounteth now on wings of air,
To the sky,
A little dewdrop, pure and clear:
Far up on high,
Hear it say —
"All above the earth is fair;
Watch and pray!
Night or sorrow come not here —
'Tis perfect day!"