 | Poems by John Howard Bryant |  |
141
AUTUMN.
Loveliest season of the year,
Meek and modest, brown and sere,
With a mild and quiet eye,
With a soft and sunny sky,
Treading gently o'er the glade,
On departed summer's shade,
Painting all the forest leaves
With the hues the rainbow weaves;
How I love thee in thy prime,
Golden blessed Autumn time.
Meek and modest, brown and sere,
With a mild and quiet eye,
With a soft and sunny sky,
Treading gently o'er the glade,
On departed summer's shade,
Painting all the forest leaves
With the hues the rainbow weaves;
How I love thee in thy prime,
Golden blessed Autumn time.
Village school-boy searching o'er
All the rustling forest's floor,
Gathers wild grapes from the tree,
Whitest nuts of hickory,
Hazel nut and walnut rare,
Yellow as the summer pear,
Making glad with shout and song,
All the woodland all day long;
And the squirrel glad and gay,
In the warm sun's setting ray,
Frisking round the old oak tree,
Gathers nuts as well as he.
Sauntering down the deep ravine,
Oft the dreaming youth is seen,
Watching shadows as they pass
O'er the falling leaves and grass,
Sitting by the streamlet's side,
Gazing on its restless tide,
Listening to its mellow note
Swelling from the wild swan's throat;
Sounding as she soars on high
Like a trumpet in the sky.
Gentle dreamer, wander on,
Till thy dream of life is done;
Let no darker shade be cast
On thy path, or ruder blast
Greet thee than the Autumn day
Throws around thy woodland way.
All the rustling forest's floor,
Gathers wild grapes from the tree,
Whitest nuts of hickory,
Hazel nut and walnut rare,
Yellow as the summer pear,
Making glad with shout and song,
All the woodland all day long;
And the squirrel glad and gay,
In the warm sun's setting ray,
Frisking round the old oak tree,
Gathers nuts as well as he.
Sauntering down the deep ravine,
Oft the dreaming youth is seen,
142
O'er the falling leaves and grass,
Sitting by the streamlet's side,
Gazing on its restless tide,
Listening to its mellow note
Swelling from the wild swan's throat;
Sounding as she soars on high
Like a trumpet in the sky.
Gentle dreamer, wander on,
Till thy dream of life is done;
Let no darker shade be cast
On thy path, or ruder blast
Greet thee than the Autumn day
Throws around thy woodland way.
Now the farmer gathers in
Summer's fruits with merry din,
Plucking through the sunny days
Glistening ears of ripened maize;
Gathering from the orchard bough,
With its burden bending low,
Fruits as ruddy and as sleek
As the blooming maiden's cheek;
Fruits to cheer the taste and sight,
In the long, long winter night,
When round the blazing hearth,
Neighbors meet with cheerful mirth.
Summer's fruits with merry din,
Plucking through the sunny days
Glistening ears of ripened maize;
Gathering from the orchard bough,
With its burden bending low,
Fruits as ruddy and as sleek
As the blooming maiden's cheek;
Fruits to cheer the taste and sight,
In the long, long winter night,
When round the blazing hearth,
Neighbors meet with cheerful mirth.
| Poems by John Howard Bryant | |