When Jack Frost starts to make merry then red leaf and scarlet berry
And the purpling grape proclaim that autumn’s here!
Maples flame upon the grey side of the mountains, and the wayside
Golden-rod, gold-hearted asters now adorn:
Like old friends returned from places far away we greet their faces
As we hasten to the husking of the corn.
There are dry leaves for the raking, there are bonfires for the making;
There are ruddy apples heaped upon the grass;
And in spells of stormy weather, in some attic, barn, together,
Oh, how gaily do we make the moments pass!