FAIR pledges of a fruitful tree,   Why do ye fall so fast?   Your date is not so past But you may stay yet here awhile   To blush and gently smile,       And go at last.

What! were ye born to be   An hour or half's delight,   And so to bid good night? 'Twas pity Nature brought you forth   Merely to show your worth       And lose you quite.

But you are lovely leaves, where we   May read how soon things have   Their end, though ne'er so brave: And after they have shown their pride   Like you awhile, they glide       Into the grave.