Into its lap the treasures of the year
Are gladly thrown. The royal golden-rod,
Fresh from the kind and gracious hand of God,
Puts on a brighter garb. And far and near
The wonders of the autumn hues appear.
The balmy air with ecstacy is rife;
All nature grows in plentitude of life,
And breathes deep with the bounties of good cheer.
The morning clouds are full of beauty, too,
And dash their richest crimson o'er the scene,
While in the range of sunset's purple view
There glows the glory of its changing sheen—
The tints of earth and sky forever new;
The grandeur which forever rolls between!
