The leaves are falling fast.
The green soon turns to gray.
Life, color, beauty past,
Then death and swift decay.
The years are flying fast.
Our heads will soon be gray,
Ambition, power, past,
Then comes the final day.
O joy, while joy yet thrills!
Aye love, while love is ours.
Procrastination kills.
Frost withers fragrant flowers.
Dear Love, e'er eyes grow dim,
E'er hearts grow strangely cold,
Pray heed the prayer of him
Whose grief is unconsoled.
