Here we ramble to and fro,
Careless as the winds that blow,
Singing, laughing, shouting still,
Down the hollow—up the hill:
Everywhere the pawpaws grow,
Everywhere the red haws glow—
Everywhere the wild grapes shine,
Full to bursting, on the vine—
Everywhere the walnut shakes
Its bold emeralds in the brakes—
Everywhere the hazel-bush
Swings its open purse of plush—
Everywhere the hick'ry tree
Heaps its gems unsparingly—
Everywhere the acorn brown
Flings its humbler jewels down;—
Swart October! Kingliest
Month of all the year, and best!
Thus we greet you, as we go,
Joyous as the winds that blow,
Gathering nuts.
Miles from home,—but what of that?
Here we rest, and here we chat,
Locked away from care, and shut
Fast as kernels in a nut,—
Tilted on a toppled tree,
Tired of foot, but fancy-free!
There a squirrel runs at will
Up an oak, and takes his fill—
Here a woodchuck, shy and sly,
Winks at us and gallops by,—
Who could lift a hand to slay
Such as these, on such a day?
Lend me but an hour like this
Once a year, and all the bliss
Of the rest you 're welcome to;—
Never painter ever drew
From the gallery of his mind
Pictures fair as those we find
As we ramble to and fro,
Careless as the winds that blow,
Gathering nuts.