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Withered Leaves

by Peter Burn

I watch the leaves as they fade and fall
And form a heap by my garden wall.

I think of my loss in days "to be,"
My garden's wealth but a leafless tree.

I loved those leaves in their day of birth:
I love them now in the lap of earth.

Withered leaves! They are beautiful yet,
Though nipt by the frost, and dash'd by the wet!

Mine eyes feast not on the world of green,
Death holds its revels where life has been.

Snow, sleet, and hail, and a sunless sky!
These, these are mine, till the by and by.

I wait the hour. My heart has rest;
Seasons are faithful to His behest.

Through leaden sky, and through leafless tree,
I see the summer that is to be.

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