Which is the weakest thing of all br Mine heart can ponder? br The sun, a little cloud can pall br With darkness yonder? br The cloud, a little wind can move br Where'er it listeth? br The wind, a little leaf above, br Though sere, resisteth? br br What time that yellow leaf was green, br My days were gladder; br But now, whatever Spring may mean, br I must grow sadder. br Ah me! a leaf with sighs can wring br My lips asunder - br Then is mine heart the weakest thing br Itself can ponder.