Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1885-01-28
ALPENA WEEKLY ARGUS.
MISCELLANEOUS.
IN AUTUMN Us.

SEQ how the biightfaccd Autumn shines in
heaven,
And decks with sivos mists tho purple
Night, like raven, from the earth IL driven.
eAnd frosty Morning, charioted by gales.
Rides where the East burns with ruby nrc,
And throws his flaming lances higher and
higher.
oGlorious dawn Thou type of life and hopei
Freed from the secret prison OF tho night,
Thy shining charms, like wondrous blossoms
That having no rich balm, exhale the
Until thousand rainbows blont in one
Seem dreaming on the highway OF the sun.
The clouds, a gorgeous pageant, cold with
In silent grandeur tnrong the solemn skies,
Where in the West tie lordly mountains
The soul OF Beauty haun,s both heaven and
earth,
Tho very air to life and Joy gives birth.
Tho nodding golden-rod shines whore the dust
Dear, faithful flower, still its bloom will trust
Though Natures hour OF b.ossoming is
when winters frosty fingers pluck its
Still is it bright to smile in Beauty's arms.
Sec how II burns beside the moss grown
walls
Twill glow till, hushing all tho frosty air,
The snow, heavens frozen kiss OF pity,
Twill nod and bow, till, clad with faded
leaves,
Death Ger the plain homeless wandercr
The fFos sy' c6estnuts pour in rustlins show
Their bursting wealth upon the leaf-strewn
ground,
And through the afternoons swift flying
The shouts of many a merry school-boy
All, happy tribe. unknown TO want and care,
Would i laughing child might JOIN them
Rich, ripe and bearded falls the yellow grain,
Where rings the reaper's scythe ut broak OF
And filled with 'adncss is the honest swain,
That homoward guides his load ut twilight
Through, dewy lanes where sleeps the boating
fold,
And shines the early crescent white and cold.
Deop in the vineyards, on tho russell stem
The clustered grapes hang purple with their
Each smoothed and rounded like ohiseled
We'll worthy on some queenly breast to
With what sweet charms each season srcets
Each TO its end In beauty fuller grows.
The birds have flown TO sing in Southern
skies,
Where Summer holds eternal blossoming;
Where heavens pure dream of growing sun.
light lies
On earth as softly rs an angels wing:
And whore the streams sing on with music
rare,
And entertain the wild woods unaware.
But though the birds have flown. and on the
Their Dubbling songs of love no moro are
Yet bark! a thousand voices hath the gale.
The reeds like flutes breathe sweet II olian
songs,
And to each stirring twlg tongue belongs.
Nor have the rivers, glittcrlng I'm the light.
~ Forgotten that Wild minstrclsy they know;
The RI lis purl on rs sweet TO Autumn bright
As Ger they rang mt summers hour OF dow:
Nor have the insects, but u season old,
Their merry piping closed because tits cola
But now: gay Autumn, thou who brinscst
To Summers gentleness thysolf must die
And from thy hale and parted lips the breath
Must steal away In ono low wintry sigh.
Farewell, Autumn high among tho stars
Pale Winter watches from his icy bars.
Farewell, the last dear bird, the last sweet
Farewell, ye rustlins woods, ye pleasant
Winter rocks earth TO sleep in one short hour.
And rings the knell or Summer in his gales;
Yet Winter hath a glory and a grace.
And wears kind heavens smile upon his face.
Ernest W. Shurttef, ~ Youth's Companion.