THE MERRY WIND - by Mary Mapes Dodge

THE MERRY WIND by  Mary Mapes Dodge The merry wind came racing Adown the hills one day, In gleeful frolic chasing The rustling leaves away. In clouds of red and yellow, He whirled the leaves along, And then the jolly fellow He sang a cheery song. The merry wind was weary At last of fun and play; His voice grew faint and eerie, And softly died away. Far off a crow was calling And in the mellow sun The painted leaves kept falling And fading, one by one.