THE GLOOM OF AUTUMN by Sel.

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Nov 25, 1875

“THE GLOOM OF AUTUMN.”

By Sel.

Hail, ye sighing sons of sorrow, View with me the autumnal gloom; Learn from hence your fate to-morrow, Dead—perhaps laid in the tomb! See all nature fading—dying, Silent all things seem to mourn; Life from vegetation flying Brings to mind the moldering urn.

Oft the autumn tempest rising Makes the lofty forests nod, Scenes of nature, how surprising! Read in nature, nature’s God. See our Sovereign, sole Creator, Lives eternal in the sky, While we mortals yield to nature, Bloom awhile, then fade and die.

Death or war my mind depresses, Autumn shows me my decay— Calls to mind my past distresses— Warns me of my dying day. Autumn makes me melancholy, Strikes dejection through my soul; Oh! to see my former folly, Waves of sorrow o’er me roll!

Lo, I hear the air resounding With expiring insect’s cries, Oh! their moans to me how wounding— Emblems of my wretched sighs! 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 are autumn’s treasures, Since I know no earthly joy! Long I’ve lost all youthful pleasures, Time must youth and health destroy. Pleasures once I fondly courted, Shared each bliss that youth bestowed; But to see where once I’ve sported, Now embitters all my woes!

Age and sorrow since have blasted Every youthful, pleasing dream, Quivering age with youth contrasted, Oh! how short their glories seem As the autumn frosts are cropping Leaves and tendrils from the trees; So my friends are yearly dropping By old age and dire disease.

Former friends, oh! how I’ve sought them Just to cheer my drooping mind! But they’ve gone like leaves of autumn Driven before the dreary wind! When a few more years are wasted, When a few more springs are o’er, When a few more griefs I’ve tasted, I’ll greet them on the other shore.

Fast my sun of life’s declining, Soon would set in endless night, But my hopes, pure and refining, Rest in future life and light. Cease, my soul, this mournful sighing; Faith will break this sullen gloom; And the resurrection morning, Soon will burst upon the tomb. —Sel.