Michael Pendragon - Swansong

The Shadows rise, the Sun hath set
The Stars burn pale and cold
The Evening mist hangs damp and wet
And I am growing old

Beneath the Autumn Moon I spy
The leaves of burnished gold
That mould'ring on the ground do lie
And I am growing old

Here in the fading light I see
Time's hoary tale unfold
For Death will soon be here for me
And I am growing old

The Autumn Wind blows damp and wet
And chills the fingers round my heart
I die with only one regret
My Love and I must part

I fear the Night, so cold and wet
I fear the chill the Grave doth hold
Then hold me tight and tighter yet
For I am growing old

Michael Pendragon

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/swansong-7/