50 Bird Day Book 



O PUMPKIN PIE 



O PUMPKIN pie ! 

 Athwart thy face 

 A hundred fancies may I trace ! 

 I see the glint of summer sun, 

 And twilight, when the day is done; 

 The sober peace of musing cows 

 Who on the meadow grasses browse ; 

 The radiant glory of the morn 

 That sweeps across the nodding corn. 

 A thousand happy fancies start 

 When thou are nestling near my heart. 



pumpkin pie! 



I hear the breeze 

 That whispered in the maple trees; 



1 see the swaying fields of wheat, 

 And hear the birdsongs, clear and sweet ; 

 And, low across the land at night, 



I catch the ballad of delight — 

 The chant the cricket sings in glee ; 

 And summer comes again to me. 

 O pumpkin pie ! Thus dost thou cast 

 Thy joyous glamour o'er the past. 



O pumpkin pie! 



Within thy breast 

 These gladsome summer fancies rest; 

 The golden sunshine and the dew 

 Have paid their tribute through and through. 

 The song the lark trilled in the air 

 Within thy form is echoed there; 



For all these things of joy to me 

 Were caught and firmly held by thee. 



pumpkin pie ! For all thou didst 



1 welcome thee unto my midst ! 



— Copyright by Wilbur D. Nesbit. 



