g 
I 
A STILL DAY IN AUTUMN. 
479 
Taste, ye mortals, also; 
Milky-hearted we; 
Taste, but with a reverent care: 
Active, patient be. 
Too much gladness brings to gloom 
Those who on the gods presume. 
% Still |ag in gtofonut. 
Mrs. Whitman. 
T LOVE to wander through the woodlands hoary 
In the solt light of an Autumnal day, 
When Summer gathers up her robes of glory, 
And like a dream of Beauty glides away. 
How in each loved, familiar path she lingers, 
Serenely smiling through the golden mist, 
Tinting the wild-grape with her dewy fingers, 
Till the cool emerald turns to amethyst. 
Kindling the faint stars of the hazel shining, 
To light the gloom of Autumn’s mouldy halls; 
With hoary plumes the Clematis entwining 
Where o’er the r ck her withered garland falls. 
Warm lights are on the sleepy uplands waning, 
Beneath soft clouds along the horizon rolled, 
Till the slant sunbeams thro’ their fringes raining, 
Bathe all the hills in melancholy gold. 
