
They carry with them crispness in the air,
And all the beauty of the leaves so fair
Tell the inner beauty of she whom I adore.
In autumn love’s true springtime sings once more
But sings with a richness beyond compare
Taught by our tears and things we had to bear.
Autumn’s bounteous harvest of glad amour
Is richer far than springtime’s budding love,
And glows with the warmth of a golden light
That flows from the heart of heaven above,
For autumn’s love is fraught with Love’s delight.
I would not trade this love for springtime love.
Early love can’t compare with autumn bright.
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