Autumn.
In this glad season, when the ripened corn
All golden-hued along the landscape gleams,
And fruits, as poured from Plenty’s flowing horn,
Blush red and purple in the sun’s bright beams.
Incense of gratitude it well beseems
Frail man to offer with devotion high,
From his heart as an altar, whilst there teems
Such glad abundance round him, and the sky
Glows with a glorious light to prove heaven’s goodness nigh.
Oh, that such goodness we regarded more!
And, winged with gratitude, our thoughts aloft
Like morning skylarks, would rejoicing soar
To pay their glad and cheerful tribute oft.
Ah! sweet is grateful love, and calm and soft
Its soothing influence upon the mind,
Making it purer, as the breezes waft
Life to the flowers! Then on thy spirit bind
The thought of heaven’s rich love, beneficent and kind!
The hopeful promise of the early spring
Is now fulfilled; the summer’s rosy flower
Transmuted into fruit; and corn-fields bring
The full redundance of their golden store,
To glad the heart of man. His labour o’er,
Well may he lift a deeply thankful voice,
And ere the closing of the year grown hoar,
Make hospitality’s free rites his choice—
A season of glad cheer when loving hearts rejoice.