Dearer far to Heaven are we,
Children of eternity!
OCTOBER.
Crimson-and-gold, October’s boughs proclaim
The approaching Passion of the waning year;
By sacramental signs, for aye the same,
Pathetic portents show the end is near.
The landscape lessens in the shimmering haze;
The songless silence chants the season’s grief;—
Too soon shall follow, with the darkening days,