September

SEPTEMBER

Again has come the sweet September,

Bringing treasures in her train;

She's bringing joys we'll fain remember

Till she comes to us again.

The apple trees with fruit are bending,

And crimson is the Maiden Blush,

Its fragrance with the dew is blending

In the quiet evening's hush.

The sumac now with torch uplifted,

Standing where the forest stood,

Where withered leaves will soon be drifted.

In the op'nings of the wood.

The golden rod in brightest yellow

Waving in the morning air.

Where nature's voice so soft and mellow

Tells us of beauty there.

The rose is gone, its beauty ended,

But another takes its place,

For now we feel our loss amended

By the aster's smillng face.

A song now charms us in the gloaming,

'Tis the cricket's cheerful voice.

At rest from labor and from roaming,

Makes the echoes sweet rejoice.

By the meadow brook so clear.

Where floods of sunshine soft are streaming

Through the balmy atmosphere.

The sunflower's golden lamp is gleaming.

The grapes in clusters sweet and tender

Hang in richness from the vine,

Now ripe and ready to surrender

Juices for the ruddy wine.

The corn in serried ranks is standing

Now, its silken beard is brown.

The treasure of the world commanding -

'Tis September's golden crown.

The pleasures of the mild September,

Charming in a thousand ways.

In winter 's gloom we'll still remember.

How they passed those balmy days.

To rest, to muse, perchance to slumber

In the arbor 'neath the pine.

Recounting blessings without number

Coming from a hand divine.

This fills our lives with golden dreaming,

Sweeps the clouds of care away.

The light of hope is sweetly streaming

Through this bright September day.

September 12, 1879