 | Poems and Essays of a Miscellaneous Character on Subjects of General Interest |  |
116
WELCOME TO OCTOBER.
Welcome, October! let my simple song
Soft echoing, steal thy yellow groves along,
Where Nature, conscious of her faded charms,
Dejected, sinks into thy languid arms,
And mournful throws her tarnish'd robes aside—
The faded relics of her summer pride.
Yet thou hast charms for me; even beauteous Spring,
Crown'd with dew'd flowerets, left untouch'd the string
That vibrates softly solemn through my soul,
Whose every feeling owns thy calm control.
The Summer brook, alive with minnowy fry,
And children's plashing feet, with floral dye
Of white, pink, purple, blue—all beauteous marg'd,
Now brown and chill, the deepening current charg'd
With whirling eddying leaves, flows swifter on,
And mourns her naked banks with hoarser tone.
Soft echoing, steal thy yellow groves along,
Where Nature, conscious of her faded charms,
Dejected, sinks into thy languid arms,
And mournful throws her tarnish'd robes aside—
The faded relics of her summer pride.
Yet thou hast charms for me; even beauteous Spring,
Crown'd with dew'd flowerets, left untouch'd the string
That vibrates softly solemn through my soul,
Whose every feeling owns thy calm control.
The Summer brook, alive with minnowy fry,
And children's plashing feet, with floral dye
Of white, pink, purple, blue—all beauteous marg'd,
Now brown and chill, the deepening current charg'd
With whirling eddying leaves, flows swifter on,
And mourns her naked banks with hoarser tone.
And ye, whose waning years tell life is brief,
When “fallen into the sere and yellow leaf,”
Whose life's spring-flowers are wither'd all and dead,
Strewn on the winds, or crush'd beneath the tread
Of careless feet, yet trampled, yield a balm
Sweet to the soul, may ye, serenely calm,
Smile o'er earth's fallen hopes, and raise your eyes
To the mild glories of the loving skies.
When “fallen into the sere and yellow leaf,”
Whose life's spring-flowers are wither'd all and dead,
Strewn on the winds, or crush'd beneath the tread
Of careless feet, yet trampled, yield a balm
Sweet to the soul, may ye, serenely calm,
Smile o'er earth's fallen hopes, and raise your eyes
To the mild glories of the loving skies.
| Poems and Essays of a Miscellaneous Character on Subjects of General Interest | |