De winter days are drawin’ nigh
An’ by the fire I sets an’ sigh;
De no’the’n win’ is blowin’ cold,
Like it done in days of old.
De yaller leafs are fallin’ fas’,
Fur summer days is been an’ pas’;
The air is blowin’ mighty cold,
Like it done in days of old.
De frost is failin’ on de gras’
An’ seem to say, “Dis is yo’ las’ ”—
De air is blowin’ mighty cold
Like it done in days of old.
From The Book of American Negro Poetry (Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1922), edited by James Weldon Johnson. This poem is in the public domain.