Winds blow yarely athwart
Friend of the crown heretofore
A mighty hold was thy way
Thy puissant stem that fed my veins
Alak! Harken yonder in thither valleys
Yea! Erelong upon distant hills
Nigh high time induced to kill
The Hickory
The Elm
The mighty Oak
Every yellow Aspen
Must let go
Death approaches natheless
Time to linger
In the throes of fall
The struggling leaf asphyxiates
Brown, yellow, and slowly starved
Released forthwith from the arm
The burdening winds
Slave the shell away
From the mourning benefactress
Soon ever, cold and gray
Nice one Jason!