  Yet one smile more, departing, distant sun, One mellow smile through the soft vapory air, Ere, o'er the frozen earth, the loud winds run, Or snows are sifted o'er the meadow bare. One smile on the brown hills and naked trees And the dark rocks whose summer wreaths are cast, And the blue Gentian flower, that, in the breeze, Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last. Yet a few sunny days, in which the bee Shall murmur by the hedge that skirts the way, The cricket chirp upon the russet lea, And man delight to linger in thy ray. Yet one rich smile, and we will try to bear The piercing winter frost, and winds, and darkened air. —William Cullen Bryant. Oh, Autumn! Why so soon Depart the hues that make thy forests glad; Thy gentle wind and thy fair sunny noon, And leave thee wild and sad! Ah! 'twere a lot too blessed Forever in thy colored shades to stray; Amid the kisses of the soft southwest To rove and dream for aye. —William Cullen Bryant. Copyright, 1900, by A. W. Mumford. |
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