Page:Poems of Sentiment and Imagination.djvu/85

Rh BIRTHDAY OF AUTUMN.

awake this morn! my spirit shook

Drowsiness from its plumes before the birds;

And up beside my window with a book,

I strive to find a magic in the words.

But thought claims precedence; and with my eye

Playing to lore the truant, I look on

Village and field, and river, wood and sky

Just bright'ning with the first September sun.

Autumn has come again, the autumn-time

Ever so glorious in our lovely land;

And where is there a lovelier? What clime

Yields such a wealth of blessings to your hand?

But what I love in the autumnal days

Is their delicious dreaminess, that fills

The spirit with a mellow, golden haze

Like that throughout the atmosphere; one thrills,

If a leaf flutter on the wayside trees,

Or insect sudden wind its tiny horn,

Or if springs up anon the fitful breeze,

Scattering the leaves its idle force had torn.

There is a conscious bliss in every thing;

The very shadows deeper, cooler seem,

Making us wish that we aside could fling

Life's waking cares, and lay us down and dream.

The sun's rays grown less vertical, have now

The soft gold that the painters imitate;

And tones come whispered from each waving bough,

Sweeter than all that genius can create: