David MacDonald Ross - Autumn lyrics

When, with low moanings on the distant shore, Like vain regrets, the ocean-tide is rolled: When, thro' bare boughs, the tale of d**h is told By breezes sighing, "Summer days are o'er"; When all the days we loved -- the days of yore -- Lie in their vaults, dead Kings who ruled of old -- Unrobed and sceptreless, uncrowned with gold, Conquered, and to be crowned, ah! never more. If o'er the bare fields, cold and whitening With the first snow-flakes, I should see thy form, And meet and kiss thee, that were enough of Spring; Enough of sunshine, could I feel the warm Glad beating of thy heart 'neath Winter's wing, Tho' Earth were full of whirlwind and of storm.