When an early autumn walks the land and chills the breeze
  and touches with her hand the summer trees,
  perhaps you'll understand what memories I own.
  There's a dance pavilion in the rain all shuttered down,
  a winding country lane all russet brown,
  a frosty window pane shows me a town grown lonely.
  That spring of ours that started so April-hearted,
  seemed made for just a boy and girl.
  I never dreamed, did you, any fall would come in view
  so early, early.
  Darling if you care, please, let me know,
  I'll meet you anywhere, I miss you so.
  Let's never have to share another early autumn.