A SONG FOR AUTUMN.
Frighten the bird from the tasselled pine,
Where he sings like a hope in a gloomy breast;
Tread down the blossoms that cling to the vine,
Winnow the blooms from the mountain's crest!
Let the balm-flower sleep where the small brooks twine,
And the golden-rod treasure the yellow sunshine.
Where he sings like a hope in a gloomy breast;
Tread down the blossoms that cling to the vine,
Winnow the blooms from the mountain's crest!
Let the balm-flower sleep where the small brooks twine,
And the golden-rod treasure the yellow sunshine.
Muffle the bells of the faint-lipped waves,
Let the red leaves fall. Let the brown fawn leap
Through the golden fern. In the weedy caves
Let the snake coil up for his winter sleep;
Let the ringed-snake coil where the earth is drear,
Like a grief that grows cold as the heart grows sere!
Let the red leaves fall. Let the brown fawn leap
Through the golden fern. In the weedy caves
Let the snake coil up for his winter sleep;
Let the ringed-snake coil where the earth is drear,
Like a grief that grows cold as the heart grows sere!
