Autumnis over the long leaves that love us,
and over the mice in the barley sheaves;
yellow the leaves of the rowan above us,
and yellow the wet wild-strawberry leaves.
The hour of the waning of love has beset us,
and weary and worn are our sad souls now;
Let us patt, ere the season of passion forget us,
with a kiss and a tear on thy drooping brow.