The Poetry Corner

Autumn.

By H. P. Nichols

Here's the purple aster, And the golden-rod, And the blue fringed gentian, By the meadow sod. And the scarlet cardinal Grows beside the brook, And the yellow sunflower In some sheltered nook. Maple boughs are covered With their foliage red, And the withered elm leaves On the ground lie dead. And within the orchard, Heavy-laden trees Shower down the apples, With each passing breeze. So by these we know thee, Lovely autumn time, With thy deep blue heavens, And thy snowy rime. And we gladly greet thee, With thy colors gay, Though thou tell'st us summer Hence hath fled away.