Fair pledges of a fruitful tree, br Why do ye fall so fast? br Your date is not so past, br But you may stay yet here a-while, br To blush and gently smile; br And go at last. br br What, were ye born to be br An hour or half's delight; br And so to bid good-night? br 'Twas pity Nature brought ye forth, br Merely to show your worth, br And lose you quite. br br But you are lovely leaves, where we br May read how soon things have br Their end, though ne'er so brave: br And after they have shown their pride, br Like you, a-while;--they glide br Into the grave.