There's colour in the woodlands as far as eye can reach, <br />Pale gold upon the elm-tree and bronze upon the beech; <br />To witch the world with beauty a hundred hues ally - <br />But bonniest is the scarlet when a Whip rides by. <br />On towers of brown and crimson, on roofs of royal gold <br />The banners of the autumn their splendid tints unfold, <br />And no one will their wonder, their magic lure deny - <br />Yet dearer is the scarlet when a Whip rides by. <br />Ah! Bright September woodlands, your magic only means <br />That summer’s life is ebbing on the bed your beauty screens; <br />Not all your painted pennons on all your towers so high <br />Can match one patch of scarlet when a whip rides by!<br /><br />William Henry Ogilvie<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/colour-9/
