'Tones of time'

"How innocent were these Trees, that in
Mist-green May, blown by a prospering breeze, 
Stood garlanded and gay; 
Who now in sundown glow
Of serious color clad confront me with their show
As though resigned and sad,
Trees, who unwhispering stand umber, bronze, gold; 
Pavilioning the land for one grown tired and old;
Elm, chestnut, aspen and pine, I am merged in you, 
Who tell once more in tones of time, 
Your foliaged farewell."

--   Siegfried Sassoon, "October Trees''