When autumn comes,
With its darkness and decay,
We have no time to travel
In the olden dreams and days
Making us breathless with longing.
We must thrill in the shadows of gold,
Sweep the smoke-blue sea of dawn
Into those closed rooms
Of a heart wishing to be home
Where leaves fall from eager eyes,
To see the purple clamoring dusk
Hailing the music of a day to come.