So strange that death is met with grief
And tears that fall like rain
For Summer's death to Autumn's glory
Tells nothing of sadness or pain

The sun is strong in Summer's prime
And casts down joyous rays
Yet it's death-bound Autumn's golden gleam
That yield the brightest days

Proud Summer drapes her fruitful form
with vibrant, green attire
But Autumn's garbed in red and gold
Caught from a funeral pyre

Condolences for Summer's death
Are oh so very few
They're lost in swirls of morning mist
And shining, crystal dew

A songird fanfare splits the air
And carries through the trees
The feathered choir heralds snow
As it flees the chill on a rising breeze

A mournful wind blows through the boughs
A rain that only death could tame
Falling leaves of orange and red
Falling embers wrought of flame

Bring no tears to the newly dead
For nature won't grieve for a flower
It sings out its joy through the saphire sky
Its golden rapture in its final hour