September. 
This farewell pledge the lady caught, 
And hence, as legends say, 
The flower is a sign to awaken thought 
For friends who are far away ; 
For the lady fair of her knight so true 
Still remembered the hapless lot, 
And she cherished the flower of brilliant hue, 
And she braided her hair with the blossoms blue, 
And then called it “ Forget-me-not ! ” 
Bishop Mant. 
MORNING IN AUTUMN. 
It was a fair and mild Autumnal sky, 
And earth’s ripe treasures met the admiring eye, 
As a rich beauty, when her bloom is lost, 
Appears with more magnificence and cost. 
Cold grew the foggy morn, the day was brief, 
Loose on the cherry hung the crimson leaf ; 
The dew dwelt ever on the herb ; the woods 
Roared with strong blasts, with mighty showers the floods : 
All green was vanished, save of pine and yew, 
That still displayed their melancholy hue ; 
Save the green holly, with its berries red, 
And the green moss that o’er the gravel spread. 
Crahbe. 
