The autumn road is paved with leaves of gold
And red, that lay beneath the languid blue.
A song recalls the tender days of old,
And brings a hope of spring to come anew.
The autumn road is paved with golden leaves
And winds its weary way among the hills.
The shepherd only minds the song he weaves,
That speaks of days bygone and coming still.
The autumn road is strewn with gathered gold
Which winds have shorn and scattered from the trees.
From bud to branch uncounted and untold
Retreat until the spring unfolds the seed.
So sings the shepherd lad, who now commands
His flock depart the slope for winter lands.
