 | The harp and plow |  |
OCTOBER.
Lift up your eyes, and look abroad
Upon this gorgeous scene;
It is the last upon the road
Spring and the snows between;
And though a beauteous vista may,
Through coming glooms, a moment play,
This shows as when a painter tries
A last grand effort ere he dies.
Upon this gorgeous scene;
It is the last upon the road
Spring and the snows between;
64
Through coming glooms, a moment play,
This shows as when a painter tries
A last grand effort ere he dies.
Let him who reads the falling leaf
His symbol of decay,
Blend with the plaintive winds his grief,
And mourn, as mourn he may.
And let him look with eye of faith
Beyond the brumal bourn of death,
And picture heaven blooming fair
And vernal freshness fadeless there.—
His symbol of decay,
Blend with the plaintive winds his grief,
And mourn, as mourn he may.
And let him look with eye of faith
Beyond the brumal bourn of death,
And picture heaven blooming fair
And vernal freshness fadeless there.—
But I will mourn that thou art brief,
October in thy stay;
That thou art passing as the leaf
Drifts downward and away;
And for the clime of heaven fair,
Give me the Indian-summer there!
For never does it bless us here
But that I dream 't will there appear.
October in thy stay;
That thou art passing as the leaf
Drifts downward and away;
And for the clime of heaven fair,
Give me the Indian-summer there!
For never does it bless us here
But that I dream 't will there appear.
O, charming scenes! on looking back
To childhood's sunny ways,
The brightest spots upon life's track
Are these Autumnal days;
The breezy wood, the hazy sun,
The river-shore, and well-kept gun;
The dog that loved his master-boy,
And scoured the landscape, mad with joy.
To childhood's sunny ways,
The brightest spots upon life's track
Are these Autumnal days;
The breezy wood, the hazy sun,
The river-shore, and well-kept gun;
The dog that loved his master-boy,
And scoured the landscape, mad with joy.
65
The ramble on the frosty morn,
Nut-seeking, brisk and boon;
The social husking of the corn,
The full, old-fashioned moon;
The harvest-home beneath its beams,
The murmured music of the streams,
The mountain's prismy forest-wall,
The holy calm enwraping all!
Nut-seeking, brisk and boon;
The social husking of the corn,
The full, old-fashioned moon;
The harvest-home beneath its beams,
The murmured music of the streams,
The mountain's prismy forest-wall,
The holy calm enwraping all!
As hope, with her enchanting ray,
Intangible, yet bright,
Illumines childhood's flowery way
With undefined delight,—
So when the Pride of Autumn comes,
Its glorious gladness, and its glooms,
A pensive charm pervades my mind,
Complete and sweet, yet undefined.
Intangible, yet bright,
Illumines childhood's flowery way
With undefined delight,—
So when the Pride of Autumn comes,
Its glorious gladness, and its glooms,
A pensive charm pervades my mind,
Complete and sweet, yet undefined.
| The harp and plow | |