Versos English Martha Dickinson Bianchi Faded the Footstep of Spring from Our Garden

English poem

Faded the Footstep of Spring from Our Garden

by (1866–1943)

Listen in the reader

Sighing the Autumn wind vanishing goes, Behold now, how close to us dreams are approaching— Love, it is time for repose!

List, how the leafage in raindrops all tearful Trembles and wails for a sorry defeat,— All that was ours, that we once proudly boasted, All, was a glittering cheat.

Dark as a funeral pall hanging over, Fluttering clouds in their mockery close; Sighing within us is silenced our singing— Love, it is time for repose.

Deceitful from heaven's fair emerald rainbow, Soft borrowed glamour of moonbeams doth woo; Since even you to my faith were disloyal, Love, my false Springtime were you!

Soon will the sunbeams last radiant shining Trackless be hurled where the Autumn wind blows, Slumber enmeshes my soul and the darkness— Love, it is time for repose!