The sun, grown mild, now paints the western sky, (A) And lays a sheet of gold upon the floor, (B) The quiet days forget the summer's roar, (B) As amber shadows lengthen and then die. (A) A hush descends where geese fly swiftly by, (A) Their fading cry floats to the distant shore, (B) The turning leaves fall softly evermore, (B) As if to bid the year a soft goodbye. (A) A final, fragile beauty it now keeps, (C) Before the frost descends and makes it bare; (D) A golden silence hanging in the air, (C) A quiet promise that the spirit reaps, (D) And so the world in brilliant stillness sleeps, (C) Before the winter's lonely, cold despair. (D) See more