No Longer with the Years

No hue of early Spring,

When first the fields and trees are fair,

Is beauteous as the shimmering

In Autumn's yellow hair.

No bird may build her nest

Where Summer puts her glory on,

But silence comes, a gentler guest,

When leaves and song are gone.

No light in loved one's eye,

No eloquence on lover's tongue,

Dwells tenderly as thoughts that lie

Dim memories among.

No dream, 'neath sun or star,

No gift of laughter or of tears,

Is sweet as the sleep of them that are

No longer with the years.