Publisher's Synopsis
The Summer blossoms fast decayBeneath the Autumn's chilling breath, And man is passing thus away, Touched by the silent hand of Death.Still fading-falling-day by dayThe withered petals strew the plain, They never more shall deck the spray-But man shall rise again!Behold the bare and leafless treeBlushes in spring to beauty bright;Where the dark root was buried-seeThe eager floweret springs to light!The sun his gentle influence shedTo break cold winter's icy chain-So God shall wake us from the dead, We all shall rise ag
