AUTUMN.
Imperial Autumn! Season's Monarch! throned
In more than orient pomp and majesty—
Earth's harvest king! with smiles and sunshine crowned,
Full of perfection and maturity!
Thou art the vaunted glory of the year;
Scarlet and gold and emerald leaves are thine,
Rocks, trees and forests thy rich mantles wear,
And all earth's verdures in thy lustres shine:
Yet, as the expiring lamp most brightly glows—
Or as the hectic on Consumption's cheek—
So to the year, thy beauty paints the close,
Thy added lustre does grim death bespeak:
But even in death thou own'st supremacy,
And mayest example—not exampled—be.