ON RECEIPT OF SOME AUTUMN LEAVES.

WILL I accept this ruddy leaf and fern?

Nay, ask me not, for though upon them lie

The hectic marks of Autumn's passing by,

And death of beauty that will ne 'er return;

And though the colors too intensely burn

Like to a candle flickering ere it die, -

At sight of them for sight of thee I sigh,

And to renew the moments past I yearn.

Then doubt not of the welcome I bestow

On these frail leaflets thou hast sent to me;

They have no need of introduction! No,

I fondly cherish all that comes from thee,

And feel love's warmth though winter breezes blow,

And thy dear face, though absent, still I see.