Where the gold and brown leaves quiver
O'er the winding, osiered river,
Bearing on its soft, low music to the seas.
And the forest oak, so grand, majestic, high,
With his rainbow-mantled branches woos the sky,
And the wind a fairy story
Breathing o'er the maple's glory,
Brings it down in twirling crimson showers, where lie
Many springtime flowers, fast asleep,
Spreading over them a cover warm and deep;