Bright and beautiful art thou, <br />Autumn flowers crown thy brow, <br />Golden-rod and Aster blue, <br />Russet leaf with crimson hue. <br />Half stripped branches waving by, <br />Softly as a lullaby, <br />Tell of summer's days gone by, <br />Tell that winter's very nigh. <br /> <br />In the forest cool and chill, <br />Sadly moans the Whippoorwill, <br />Not as in the summer days, <br />When he gloried in his lays, <br />Lower-toned, but sweet and clear, <br />Like thy crisp and fragrant air, <br />Warbling forth with voice sublime, <br />This is nature's harvest time. <br /> <br />Crickets chirp amid the leaves, <br />Squirrels hop among the trees, <br />Brown nuts falling thick and fast, <br />On the dewy, dying grass, <br />Glowing sun with softer rays, <br />Harbinger of wintry days, <br />Tell the year is going by, <br />Sighing forth its lullaby.<br /><br />Mary Weston Fordham<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/october-43/
