The Falling of the Leaves
Autumn is over the long leaves that love us
And over the mice in the barley sheaves;
Yellow the leaves of the rowan above us
And yellow the wet wild-strawberry leaves

The hour of the waning of love has beset us
And weary and worn are our sad souls now;
Let us part, ere the season of passion forget us
With a kiss and a tear on thy drooping brow