I in the autumn of my days br Stand by a place of tears, br And hear the unborn children weep br Within the unborn years; br And feel how all God's sorrow must br Go wailing on until br Man's autumn, too, is past, and he br May winter from all ill. br * * * * * br A pale light in the fading wood, br The sob of dying leaves — br A lorn bird lying in the dusk br Of life that wakes and grieves! br O mournful heart whose love is dust, br In the decaying wood br Death's deepening mystery will cling br Round thee like solitude.