A Foretaste of Autumn 57 



that I have heard these many years, when 

 the thrushes have departed and not a warbler 

 is left of the nesting host that thronged the 

 blossoming orchard. 



However sultry the midsummer day, a 

 whiff of yarrow carries us forward to the 

 coming coolness of September mornings. 

 However quiet the midsummer moon, let 

 but a single note fall from a winter songster, 

 and frosty Oftober is spread about us. In 

 short, if we have not smothered our fancy 

 in our rage for fafts, be summer what it may, 

 it never conceals from those who know 

 where to look the secret of conjuring up at 

 will delightful, reviving, faith-sustaining fore- 

 tastes of autumn. 



