The golden hues of autumn bright,
Now paint the fields and forest trees,
A glorious, yet fading light,
That whispers on the chilling breeze.
Now paint the fields and forest trees,
A glorious, yet fading light,
That whispers on the chilling breeze.
The leaves descend in fiery dance,
A final flourish, ere they rest,
A fleeting, melancholic trance,
That nature puts to winter's test.
A final flourish, ere they rest,
A fleeting, melancholic trance,
That nature puts to winter's test.