Autumn

Still thirteen years: 'tis autumn now On field and hill, in heart and brain; The naked trees at evening sough; The leaf to the forsaken bough Sighs not,--'Auf wiedersehen!'

Two watched yon oriole's pendent dome, That now is void, and dank with rain, And one,--oh, hope more frail than foam! The bird to his deserted home Sings not,--'Auf wiedersehen!'

The loath gate swings with rusty creak; Once, parting there, we played at pain: There came a parting, when the weak And fading lips essayed to speak Vainly,--'Auf wiedersehen!'

Somewhere is comfort, somewhere faith, Though thou in outer dark remain; One sweet sad voice ennobles death, And still, for eighteen centuries saith Softly,--'Auf wiedersehen!'

If earth another grave must bear, Yet heaven hath won a sweeter strain, And something whispers my despair, That, from an orient chamber there, Floats down, 'Auf wiedersehen!'