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The cycle of life is relentlessly short |
| You, leaf, lying wilted and wasted, You, blissful child, too soon taken From a life you hardly tasted. What ignoble fate of essence Unrequested and sorely rewarded, Clothing your host in springtime's attire, Humming in concert to laud the caress Of summer's light breath, balmy and warm, Howling to protest the blustery storm. But was your voice heard? Would the same melodious song Sound just as sweet with one less soul In a chorus one hundred strong? Resplendent in your autumn finery, So ruefully shed. Another will come In your stead. And to what end? May Heaven hold a place for you, My friend. |