WHEN roses cease to bloom,dear,
And violets are done,
When bumble-bees in solemn flight
Have passed beyond the sun,
The hand that paused to gather
Upon this summer’s day
Will idle lie,in Auburn,—
Then take my flower,pray!
When lotus decays my sleeping mat
feels the coming of autumn
In my silk dress I mount the beautiful boat
Who is to send me a letter from afar
When the wild geese fly past
the full moon hangs on the west tower
Petals fall on flowing stream,each on its own way
My mind is full of sad thoughts and sorrows
How can I dispel this feeling?
My brows no longer knit
Yet my heart still pains