Like the voice of a golden star
Heard from afar
Perishing beauty calls
Out of the mist and rain
Like the song of a silver wind
When the night is blind
Murmuring music falls
Never to rise again

Voice of the leaves that die
Whisper and sigh
Of ruinous gardens waning
Rose by ungathered rose
Dolor of pines immortal
That guard the portal
Of a lonely mead retaining
Blossoms that no man knows

Voices of love and the autumn sun
In my heart ye are one
Fairer the petals that fall
Dearer the beauty that dies
And the pyres of autumn burning