Scarcely a tear to shed;Hardly a word to say;The end of a Summer's day;Sweet Love is dead.

Oh, bring again my heart's content,Thou Spirit of the Summer-time!

Winds and waters keepA hush more dead than any sleep.

Alas! in winter, dead and dark,Where can poor Robin go?

Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woodsAnd day by day the dead leaves fall and melt.

Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods and day by day the dead leaves fall and melt.