THE dismal line of stern autumnal days
Has broken rank, and dancing through the break,
Their splendor softened in the purple haze
That drapes the hills and veils the placid lake;
The golden hours of Indian Summer bring
Their yearly tribute to the season's king.
Soft, filmy clouds of dazzling whiteness, set
Within the tender blue of dreamy skies
That bend above the sloping meadows wet
With tears of mist from sad November's eyes,
Now quickly changed to gems of wealth untold
Beneath the autumn sunlight's mellow gold.
The russet tints of woodland fabrics, thrown
Against the velvet background of the hills;
The amber-brown of sandy barrens, sown
With rubies where the partridge berry fills
The air with spices; and the silken sheen
Of silver waters wandering between.
The cloud-tipped peaks of distant mountains, kissed
By sunset colors, radiant and rare,
Sardonyx, beryl, purple amethyst,
O'er shot with rosy light, until their fair
White summits kindle with the fires that glow
Deep in the opal's mystic heart of snow.
Gifts, royal gifts, no monarch need disdain ;
The pearly clouds; the sapphire skies; the gold
Of sunlight, framing diamond drops of rain;
The sunset jewels; gems of wood and wold.
Ah! stranger offerings would pall beside
The old, old treasures newly glorified !
Western, Field. Western Field - Sportsmans Magazine of the West. San Francisco: Western Field, 1907.
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