Entrancing is the forest—
In her autumn garb supreme;
How beauteous, how colorful—
Overwhelming it would seem!
The scarlet of the maple
The browness of the oak
The crimson of the sumac
The elm in her yellow cloak.
But, ah, that fading beauty
As the days slip swiftly by,
For death is passing nigh.
Stark and naked is the forest—
Where all life has seemed to flee,
Mere sentinels appear the limbs,
So bleak, so black, each tree!
As we view these lifeless boughs,
All their beauty passed away.
Depressing is the view,
As we gaze from day to day:
But, ah, the secret joy within
That stream that once again will flow
Protected from the wintry blast
Internal life will show.
Then—wondrous is our forest—
Within the Christian’s heart,
For tho’ our colors cease to glow
And youthful charm departs,
Oh, let us not discouraged be
For new hope awaits us all.
Though dismal, lonely seems our way
We may not waver, neither fall.
For, ah that inner fount
Can never ceaseless be
Beauty springs within our breast
Leading to eternity!