Falling Leaves.The green soon turns to gray. Life, color, beauty past, Then death and swift decay. The years are flying fast. Our heads will soon be gray, Ambition, power, past, Then comes the final day. O joy, while joy yet thrills! Aye love, while love is ours. Procrastination kills. Frost withers fragrant flowers. Dear Love, e'er eyes grow dim, E'er hearts grow strangely cold, Pray heed the prayer of him Whose grief is unconsoled. __Colfax Burgoyne Harman |
Poems Of Sentiment
Colfax Burgoyne Harman
(Valley Falls, Kansas: Harman Publishing. 1905)
Page 141
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