BIRDS ftND NATURE. 



ILLUSTRATED BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY. 

 Vol. XIL SEPTEMBER. 1902. No. 2 



SEPTEMBER. 



O golden month ! How high thy gold is heaped ! 



The yellow birch-leaves shine like bright coins strung 



On wands ; the chestnut's yellow pennons tongue 

 To every wind its harvest challenge. Steeped 

 In yellow, still lie fields where wheat was reaped; 



And yellow still the corn sheaves, stacked among 



The yellow gourds, which from the earth have wrung 

 Her utmost gold. To highest boughs have leaped 



The purple grape, — last thingl to ripen, late 

 By very reason of its precious cost. 

 O Heart, remember, vintages are lost 



If grapes do not for freezing night-dews wait. 



Think, while thou sunnest thyself in Joy's estate, 

 Mayhap thou canst not ripen without frost ! 



— Helen Hunt Jackson. 



Graceful tossing plume of gold, 



Waving lowly on the rocky ledge; 

 Leaning seaward, lovely to behold, 



Clinging to the high cliff's ragged edge ; 



Burning in the pure September day, 



Spike of gold against the stainless blue, 

 Do you watch the vessels drifting by? 



Does the quiet day seem long to you? 



— Celia Thaxter, in ''Seaside Goldenrod.' 



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