ON THE MANUSCRIPTS OF GOD 



knows another series of enchantments she 

 can cast upon them with the fairy wand of 

 autumn. 



Once, twice, thrice, she waves her wand 

 and the deep green leaves blush rosily at 

 their tips. A fourth, a fifth, and one knows 

 not how many more waves of the wand, and 

 the maple leaves glow crimson, scarlet, and 

 garnet or turn to molten gold, as if touched 

 by the hand of Midas. Again and again 

 while the world sleeps, the invisible wand is 

 waved, till at last we see the original of 

 Lowell's charming lines: 



"What mean these banners spread, 

 These paths with royal red 

 So gaily carpeted? 

 Comes there a prince to-day? 

 Such footing were too fine 

 For feet less argentine 

 Than Dian's own or thine, 

 Queen whom my tides obey." 



But long after the royal red of the maple 

 carpeting is spread, the waving of the wand 

 continues, for a stronger incantation is 

 needed for the richer aftermath of color 



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