Margaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
By and by

Leaves, like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?

As the heart grows older
It will come to such sights much colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
By and by

Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie
And yet you will weep and you'll know why

No matter, child, the name
Sorrow's springs are all the same
They're all the same

Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What heart heard of, ghost had guessed

It's the blight, man was born for
It is Margaret that you mourn for