We watch the summer leaves and flowers decay,
And feel a sadness o'er the spirit thrown,
As if the beauty fading fast away
From Nature's scenes, would leave our hearts more lone,
More desolate, when sunny hours are gone,-
And much of joy from outward things we find,
But more from treasures that may be our own,
Through winter's storm, the higher hopes of mind,-
The trust which from earth - earth has no chains to bind.