Nothing is so beautiful as fall,
The sky’s clear color gleams a purer blue,
The sun glows white as fountain foam, and all
The winds of heaven wake the air anew.
Through leafy awnings spreads a slow, bright fire,
Transforming them to ruby, topaz, gold,
And scatters them from every treetop spire,
In shining, spinning fragments they unfold.
Thus robed in gold and jewels, old Mother Earth
Brings from her deep heart living treasure stores,
And all her children raise a song of mirth;
On racing winds to bounteous heaven it soars.
Creation in exultant symphony
Rings with the songs that rise unceasingly!
Comments are closed.