“The windy lights of Autumn flare;
I watch the moonlit sails go by;
I marvel how men toil and fare,
The weary business that they play!
Their voyaging is vanity,
And fairy gold is all their gain,
And all the winds of winter cry,
“My Love returns no more again.””

“I'm weary, I'm weary,—this cold world of ours;
I will go dwell afar, with fairies and flowers.
....
I'm weary, I'm weary,—I'm off with the wind:
Can I find a worse fate than the one left behind?”

“All the windy ways of men
Are but dust that rises up,
And is lightly laid again.”

“Defeat I can endure with cheerfulness, my lady. But betrayal is like taking the wind from my sails, or the earth from beneath my feet. It chills my spirits like a rainy day, and all I can do is draw the curtains and cry into my pillow.”

“Autumn carries more gold in its pocket than all the other seasons.”

“And all I wanna do is let it be and be with you and watch the wind blow by.
And all I wanna see is you and me go on forever like the clear blue sky.
Slowly, there's only you and I.
And all I wanna do is watch the wind blow by.”

“But my heart is not weary; it's light and it's free
I've got nothing but affection for those who've sailed with me.”

“All shall be well, I'm telling you, let the winter come and go
All shall be well again, I know.”

“I'm weary, I'm weary. Oh! pleasure is pain
When its spell has been broken again and again.
I am weary of smiles that are bought and are sold,
I am weary of beauty whose fetters are gold,
I am weary of wealth—what makes it of me
But that which the basest and lowest might be?”

“The cold mountain turns dark green.
The autumn stream flows murmuring on.
Leaning on my staff beneath the wicket gate,
In the rushing wind I hear the cry of the aged cicada.”