When autumn brings light, the dark trees turn bright
Leaves of summer spring bring thy breeze to sway
On the gold summer fields, that passes day
As brooks nestling hope fill with rain tonight

As arid trees bear Sun's sudden delight
With humdrum in golden sunned rocky Meath
Shall come thy autumn's breath, misty with wreath
Yet, the grey, curled, stirring sky in all thunder dight

Its tumult rests in the wind, in the poetry of the blind
Such I hear, with ear to pain and sorrow
When thunder rattles windows, every night
Gently resting her head over morrow

As the leaves that have turned brown at the sides
Resting on the brook, trees have no swallows