Scottish Mason of Prussia, or the Knight of Saint Andrew

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I decline, and the tepid breath of a beautiful autumn?
Comes yet to speak to me of flowers?
And of fruits that the spring gives?
But my heart has no more color?
And time which flees delivers me to the sadness?
Of seeing my beautiful days extinguished?
And of feeling that my youth?
Moves away from me forever?
However a remnant of flame?
Comes to revive my frozen senses?
And bring calm to my soul?
Regarding the pleasures I have passed?
I still see nature?
Adorning itself with its last traits?
And in this obscure season?
Finding again some attractions?
Thus when life ends?
And everything seems to darken?
A sweet memory lifts us up?
And helps us still to enjoy?