Autumn leaves are falling fast

Autumn leaves are falling fast,
Summer's ling'ring sweets are dying,
Sorrow breathes on every blast,
O'er some loved, some lost one sighing:
Wherefore should we bid thee stay?
Go to other brighter bowers,
But return when earth is gay
With its spring-tide songs and flowers.

With the cuckoo's earliest song,
With the young year's freshest springing,
With its green woods, and the throng
Thro' their leafy bowers singing,
With the primrose in the dell
From its mossy cradle stealing,
With each tale it hath to tell,
Sacred to the soul of feeling; —

Come with these! and bring that soul
Whence life borrows half its glory,
Song its sweetness ever stole,
And the primrose all its story;
Come! nor list the stranger's song,
Gather not the stranger's flowers,
Sweeter to our groves belong,
Richer, lovelier bloom is ours.

Ever bright be mercy's star!
Holy guide before thee burning,
Bright when distant, wand'ring far
Brighter when to home returning!
These the wishes friendship pours
Round her treasures, best and purest,
Friendly prayers from friendly shores,
Heaven enshrined and therefore surest.

Autumn leaves are falling fast,
Summer's ling'ring sweets are dying,
Sorrow breathes on every blast,
O'er some loved, some lost one sighing:
Wherefore should we bid thee stay?
Go to other brighter bowers,
But return when earth is gay
With its spring-tide songs and flowers.