Lyric Poems Made in Imitation of the Italians. Of which, many are Translations From other Languages ... By Philip Ayres |
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AUTUMN.
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 | Lyric Poems |  |
88
AUTUMN.
When Summer's done, green Trees begin to yield;
Their Leaves with Age decay,
They're stript of their Array;
Scarce can the Rains revive the Russet Field:
The Flowers run up to Seed,
Orchards with Choice of Fruit abound,
Which Sight and Taste do feed:
The grateful Boughs even kiss their Parent Ground:
The Elm's kind Wife, the tender Vine,
Is pregnant with her Heavenly Burden, Wine.
Their Leaves with Age decay,
They're stript of their Array;
Scarce can the Rains revive the Russet Field:
The Flowers run up to Seed,
Orchards with Choice of Fruit abound,
Which Sight and Taste do feed:
The grateful Boughs even kiss their Parent Ground:
The Elm's kind Wife, the tender Vine,
Is pregnant with her Heavenly Burden, Wine.
CHORUS.
But then,In a short Space,
SUMMER returns agen,
E're Sol has run his Annual Race:
But, Ah! When Death's keen Arrow flies,
And hits Poor MAN,
Do what he can,
He dyes;
Returns to Dust, a Shadow, and a Nothing lyes.
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