The roe leapt on: the robin wove her nest of downy hair, And light with bliss high hovered as a blossom floats on air-- Girl, brook, and youth had ripened in the gladness born of spring, Joy still inflamed the wild-deer's heart and plumed the wild-bird's wing.
The marigold and rose had left the valley and the hill, The pansy frail was sere in dust and dead the daffodil; The aster tall yet wore its leaves, the "golden rob" its flowers, But beauty and perfume had gone with summer's radiant hours.
From morn to night through forest glades with naught his path to cheer, The roebuck wandered moodily, o'er leaves all crisped and sere; The bird still sang, but bridal song had changed to widow's wail, And mourning she but grieved the more that grief might not avail.
But ah! the saddest change of all--the chilling blight had come On hearts within whose holy bowers young love had made his home; The verdure had departed thence, the vermeil tenderness And frosty winds had brought to dust the growth of early bliss.
The maiden heard the murmuring stream but murmured no reply, A melancholy coldness dwelt within her shrouded eye, She scarcely heard _his_ burning prayer whose love no change might quell, And only lived enough to breathe an icy "fare-thee-well."
The sombre autumn-sky no more sent down its mournful rain, A dim and sickly veil had long o'er hill and hollow lain, But death at last had trampled on the few remaining flowers, All save the restless mandrake died with autumn's last sad hours.
The mandrake yet remained, and when the keen frost pierced his breast, Sent forth his voice in agony upon the soughing blast: It told of happiness too ripe, of dewy rapture fled, Of ecstacy, and green of heart, with vanished verdure dead.
The quiet snow came lightly through the thick and misty air, And slantingly descended when the cold wind left his lair; The cold wind! aye, the wind had chilled since buoyed on sunny mirth Young Euroauster came to woo the virgin bloom of earth.
I saw no more the antlered stag--his rocky solitude Was fitter palace for the king than lea or roofless wood; The robin's song had died away as all things else must die-- Death's sleet had bound her ribbed wing and dimmed her gleeful eye.