"Come, little leaves,"
Said the wind one day.
"Come down to the meadow
And we shall play.
Put on your dresses
Of red and gold,
For summer is past
And the days grow cold."

As soon as the leaves
Heard the wind's loud call,
Down they came fluttering,
One and all.

Over the meadow
They danced and flew,
All singing the soft
Little songs that they knew.

Dancing and leaping
The leaves went along,
Until winter called them
To end their sweet song.
Soon, fast asleep
In their earthy beds,
The snow lay a coverlet
Over their heads.