I Do Not Grieve

Why should I grieve
That the summer is gone;
That brown leaves cover the aging lawn?
Why should I grieve,
When our hearth is warm,
And I can sit in the curve of your arm,
Watching the play of the yellow flames?
He is a fool who blames
His discontent on the autumn rains.
There is no season for happiness.
Joy does not vanish when summer wanes.
Love loves a hearthstone no less
Than the lanes,
Lit by a silvery moon from above.
It is the heart that has never known love
That foolishly grieves.
When the summer leaves!