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AN OCTOBER DAYS RAMBLE. 



More safe to others, as more sweet, 

 The secret path, the close retreat | 



And lo, where dives the hungry coot ! 

 I know him by his sable suit, 

 Streak'd with his pinion's border white, 

 And o'er his bill the frontlet bright. 

 Again he dives : you well might know, 

 There's store of finny prey below, 

 Ev'n heard you not the frequent dash 

 Break the still lake with sudden splash ; 

 What time, emerging from the deep, 

 The fish with spring elastic leap ; 

 Nor saw the rippling motion pass 

 In circles o'er the wavy glass. 



The wavy glass is smooth again : 

 And mark, nor wrinkle now, nor stain, 

 Disturbs the crystal mirror's face ; 

 Where in illusive traits we trace, 

 Complete as limner's brush can show, 

 The sunbright sky's cerulean glow. 

 The margin, that the waters lave, 

 The flags that on their margin wave, 

 The sheep, and cows, and pastures green, 

 And circling hills are pictur'd seen : 

 Seen is the hill's o'ershadowing pride, 

 In all its tints diversified, 

 Which Autumn's glowing touch indues 

 With richest robe of thousand hues. 

 Alas ! those thousand hues declare 

 Corruption's work is busy there, 

 Forerunners they of winter's gloom : 

 A victim garnish'd for the tomb. 



Too true, too true ! For as we tread 

 The woodland path, behold, o'erspread 

 With leaves is all the slippery way, 

 Unseen consumption's early prey. 

 Nor flow'r is left to glad the sight ; 

 Save that its streaks of pink and white 

 The cranebill here and there displays ; 

 And mushrooms spread their gill-like rays, 

 Dispersing wide the powdery seed, 

 Past by the crowd with little heed ; 

 While curious eyes admiring view 

 Their structure, and their varied hue. 



