The Mountain Ash

The Mountain Ash 

The mountain ash is red today

against the fir green hill

The berries on the naked bough

are hanging low and still

The sparrows have all gone away

and alder leaves are down

The brooks run dark and lonely now

and brackens withered brown

Come climb the hill this autumn day

to search for tarnished gold

That will reflect in memory 

when you and I are old

Life never gives us long enough

to do the things we love

So let us gently thread the path

with mountain ash above