Leaves Of Autumn

The tinctured leaves are falling; one by one
Decayed they drop from off the shedding tree.
Their efforts on this autumn day are done,
Away they're borne upon the breezes free.

Now lie strewn here and there, their varied dyes
That yesterday so caught the passing eye;
Deformed by rain, each leafunheeded lies
Upon the pathway where you hurry by.

Yet hardly notice lovely tints less fair
Than when they hung so pretty overhead
But you find your eyes and see them there.
Where now your feet so heedless o'er them tread.

Away they're wasting where they lie in view,
Unseen the immortality of hue.