Winds and waters keepA hush more dead than any sleep.

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

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

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.

For whom all winds are quiet as the sun,/ All waters as the shore.