Gone is the spring with all its flowers,
And gone the summer's verdant show;
Now strewn beneath the autumn bowers,
The yellow leaves await the snow.
Behold, this earth so cold and gray
An emblem of our life appears;
Its blooming robes sink to decay,
To rise again in round of years.
Earth cheers its winter sleep with dreams
Of springtime's warmth and gentle rain,
When she shall wake to murmuring streams
And songs of merry birds again.
So we come forth like springtime flowers,
Soon into manhood's summer go,
Then, like the leaves of autumn bowers,
Lie down beneath the winter's snow.
And there our bodies slumb'ring wait
Till time's short winter day has fled,
And Christ, our Lord and Advocate,
Shall come again to wake the dead.
Then winter's storm and summer's heat
Shall end in everlasting spring,
And all immortal we shall meet,
And round the throne of glory sing.