131
Besides the Autumn poets sing
A few prosaic days
A little this side of the snow
And that side of the Haze
A few incisive Mornings
A few Ascetic Eves
Gone — Mr. Bryant's "Golden Rod"
And Mr. Thomson's "sheaves."
Still, is the bustle in the Brook
Sealed are the spicy valves
Mesmeric fingers softly touch
The Eyes of many Elves
Perhaps a squirrel may remain
My sentiments to share
Grant me, Oh Lord, a sunny mind
Thy windy will to bear!