AUTUMN GOLD.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

WHO SEE ALL THINGS WITH LOVING THOUGHT.

AWE VN GOLD,

 

By CHRISTOPHER P. CRANCH.

dig Autumn when the winds are high,
And white clouds drive across the sky,

Or when with rains the woods are wet,

And trees pay earth their annual debt,

With what a wealth of falling gold

In splendid heaps the account is told!

Each leaf of bronze and yellow tint

A coin fresh-stamped in Nature’s mint,

With royal superscription shines

Beyond the graver’s tame designs.

What gold from mines in Earth’s abyss
So genuine, fresh and pure as this?
What forms so beautiful as those
. The goldsmiths of the forest chose?
What dyer’s art could ever hit
Colors so choicely exquisite?

What regal stamp of Emperors old

 

Match the fine tracery of this gold?
Yet here ungrudging Nature heaps
The treasures of the forest deeps

In piles upon the lap of Earth

As though regardless of their worth,
And thoughtless idlers from the town
Shuffle aside and trample down
Colors and forms more precious far
Than e’er in Orient bazaar

The jealous jeweller has hid
Beneath his costly coffer’s lid.

Scarceness one half their value makes:
Beauty that Nature gives and takes
Year after year, to our dull eyes,

Is wealth we slowly learn to prize,

And they alone its worth are taught
Who see all things with loving thought.

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