The cloud, a little wind can move

Ah me! a leaf with sighs can wring

The wind, a little leaf above,

The Strongest of the univ九*九*藏*書erse

Though sere, resisteth?

Then is mine heart the weakest thing

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But now, whatever Spring may mean,

And at a blast, which is九九藏書 not wind,

With darkness yonder?

To glory breakest, -

And drop together,

My days were gladder;

Thou, from the darkening death九九藏書ly curse

Which is the weakest thing of all

My lips asunder -

I must grow sadder.

Mine heart can ponder?

The forests wither,

Whereer it九九藏書 listeth?

What time that yellow leaf was green,

The sun, a little cloud can pall

Itself can ponder.

Yet, Heart, when sun and cloud are pined