Here where no tree changes, br Here in a prison of pine, br br I think how Autumn ranges br The country that is mine. br br There — rust upon the chill breeze- br The woodland leaf now whirls ; br br There sway the yellowing birches br Like dainty dancing girls. br br Oh, how the leaves are dancing br With Death at Lassington ! br br And Death is now enhancing br Beauty I walked upon. br br The roads with leaves are Uttered, br Yellow, brown, and red. br br The homes where robins twittered br Lie ruin ; but instead br br Gaunt arms of stretching giants br Stand in the azure air, br br Cutting the sky in pattern br So common, yet so fair, br br The heart is kindled by it. br And lifted as with wine.