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T. W.
235
AUTUMN SUNSHINE.
The sunshine went a-straying
One gracious harvest morn,
While autumn winds were playing
Among the yellow corn.
The reapers' necks and faces
She dyed deep berry-brown,
And draped in mystic graces
The smoky toiling town.
She kissed in sober sadness
The flowers too soon to fade,
And pierced in merry gladness
The orchard's bosky glade.
The leaves, before her shrinking,
Disclosed the apples green,
That blushed red-ripe for thinking
How idle they had been.
She dropped, in noon-day dreaming,
Her necklace in a pool,
And left the jewels gleaming
Amid its waters cool.
She climbed with motion queenly
The mountain's rugged breast,
And slept, brief space! serenely
Calm on its cloudy crest.
