Excerpt from Clover Blossoms

A Whisper With Autumn.

Oh, woodbine and oak and maple!
You're taking on gorgeous hues,
While sunshine grows still more radiant
And chiller the evening dews.
But, brightening the distant hillside,
The sumachs are holding a fete,
To which are invited the berries
Which ripen and harden so late.

Rich Fruits of the beauteous prophecy
Which filled all the blooms of May,
Are loading the air with perfumes sweet,
And brilliant and golden ray.
For the Summer's garnered wealth,
Perfected in ripened shape,
Is glowing in apple and peach and plum,
And the luscious, right royal grape.

'Tis not dying you are, in that beautiful dress
Of scarlet and purple and gold!
But dropping the needless to make secure
The germ from the winter's cold,
For soon you will cover the rootlets o'er
From the rain and the snow and the blast,
And await the new life that is sure to come
When the winter of rest is past.

So, beautiful Autumn! we love thee the more
For the promise thy coming brings,
That the loved and lost will yet be ours
In the land where the spirit sings:
And that nothing is lost the Father has giv'n
To gladden our life here below,
But the ties which are severed and leaves which have fall'n,
Will all help the spirit to grow.

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