" Come, little leaves, " said the wind one day,
" Come o'er the meadows with me and play;
Put on your dresses of red and gold,
For summer is gone and the days grow cold. "
" Come o'er the meadows with me and play;
Put on your dresses of red and gold,
For summer is gone and the days grow cold. "
Soon as the leaves heard the wind's loud call,
Down they came fluttering, one and all;
Over the brown fields they danced and flew,
Singing the glad little songs they knew.
Down they came fluttering, one and all;
Over the brown fields they danced and flew,
Singing the glad little songs they knew.
" Cricket, good-by, we've been friends so long,
Little brook, sing us your farewell song;
Say you are sorry to see us go;
Ah, you will miss us, right well we know.
Little brook, sing us your farewell song;
Say you are sorry to see us go;
Ah, you will miss us, right well we know.
" Dear little lambs in your fleecy fold,
Mother will keep you from harm and cold;
Fondly we watched you in vale and glade,
Say, will you dream of our loving shade? "
Mother will keep you from harm and cold;
Fondly we watched you in vale and glade,
Say, will you dream of our loving shade? "
Dancing and whirling, the little leaves went,
Winter had called them, and they were content;
Soon, fast asleep in their earthy beds,
The snow laid a coverlid over their heads.
Winter had called them, and they were content;
Soon, fast asleep in their earthy beds,
The snow laid a coverlid over their heads.
By George Cooper
Artist Maggie Vandewalle
Artist Maggie Vandewalle
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