262 AUTUMN. 



And boys are busy in the woods, 



Gathering the ripe nuts, bright and brown 

 In shady lanes the children stray 

 Looking for blackberries through the day, 

 Those berries of such old renown ! 



Gray mists at morn brood o'er the earth, 



Shadowy as those on northern seas : 

 The gossamer's filmy work is done, 

 Like a web by moonlight fairies spun, 

 And left to whiten in the breeze. 



The sun bursts forth the distant hills 

 Shine out, and splendid is the day 



A sombre radiance crowns each tree, 



A fading glory solemnly 



Hangs on each leaf in its decay ; 



Go to the silent autumn woods ! 



There has gone forth a spirit stern ; 

 Its wing has waved in triumph here, 

 The Spring's green tender leaf is sere, 



And withering hangs the summer fern. 



Now to the mountains turn thine eye, 



How shine they through the burnish'd air ! 

 The little flocks like drifts of snow, 

 The shepherd's sheilings gray and low, 

 Thou seest them in their beauty there. 



Oh to lie down in wilds apart, 



Where man is seldom seen or heard ; 

 In still and ancient forests, where 

 Mows not his scythe, ploughs not his share, 

 With the shy deer and cooing bird ! 



