Of different degrees of late,
Where bravest old leaves have faith,
And time has a spell,
Uneven fall trails crossed.
A hoarfrost's a path to growth,
A magic to seep
In branches anew,
In days, and a spring blessed a few
Sweet summers' enchanted presents.
A May in full circles' past,
A winter's not here to last,
A rise it preceeds.
For under the oak-tree
And listen to song of leaves,
Of beauty, gold laughter and love.
In everything, Sun is spell-like,
Just opened for virtue of might, -
Both forward and fond of,
Of flowers, of treasures deep,
Of high above and between,
And hearts that are longing to see
And stairs, enchanted in fog.
The steps here form, as we go,
And leaves're our friends that sing.