Gloom has struck her stately form,
That once expelled gay apparel,
Who's fragrant rose from blossomed bosom
That loosely scented the wayside boughs
A senescent spirit still stands abreast.
A rodent - highway against the sky,
Who staged performances from trunk to crest,
And perch themselves nigh enthroned,
Perhaps to comfort her alone.
God's love sustains ladies like these,
The maple, the oak, their frittering leaves.