Softly the end of summer nights will sing
A calling on the wind that crickets bring
For all that still keeps my heart lamenting
Now soon even the songbirds will not sing

For deep into the valley does the stream flow
Into gurgling brook drifts the leaves that fall
When busy days of life begin to slow
Then such a sudden breeze will bring a squall

Stormy clouds drifting by with anxious rush
Past lazy sun that rises less and less
So when the ever growing night will hush
That first killing frost anyone will guess

For short is the season was summer best
Now as autumn winds blow north by northwest