1. Hail! ye sighing sons of sorrow,
Learn from me your certain doom;
Learn from me your fate tomorrow,
Dead, perhaps laid in your tomb!
See all nature fading, dying!
Silent all things seem to pine;
Life from vegetation flying,
Brings to mind the moldering vine.
2. See! in yonder forest standing,
Lofty cedars, how they nod!
Scenes of nature how surprising,
Read in nature nature's God.
While the annual frosts are cropping,
Leaves and tendrils from the trees,
So our friends are early drooping,
We are like to one of these.
3. Hollow winds about me roaring,
Noisy waters round me rise;
While I sit my fate deploring,
Tears fast streaming from my eyes
What to me is autumn's treasure
Since I know no earthly joy,
Long I've lost all youthful pleasure,
Time must youth and health destroy.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Hail! ye sighing sons of sorrow |
Meter: | 8. 7. |
Publication Date: | 1821 |
Notes: | Public Domain. |
Tune Information | |
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Name: | THE MOULDERING VINE |
Meter: | 8. 7. |
Incipit: | 52171 1234 |
Key: | f minor |
Notes: | Public Domain. |