[AUTUMN]
The ruddy banners of the Autumn leaves
Toss out a challenge to the waiting snows,
Where Winter stalks from o'er the mountain rows;
This fiery blaze his onward march receives,
A mock defence his coward heart believes,
And turns him sulking to his moated close.
Now Man the confidence of Nature knows,
And feels the mighty heart that loves and grieves.
Not as in rude young March or hoyden June,