The Washington herald. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1906-1939, 1910-10-30


hight Of reason and sanity that autumn
is the season OF promise What hath
been shall be. and the flowers that fade.
the leaves that fall. are but forms Of life
that have fulfilled their purpose and pass
on 10 another year. So IL is with our
own human tenure. It's purpose is filled
and its end has come What, then. is
This death that men fear and which
seems 10 our poor race the end Of all? II
Is but the period put 70 the transient
show. the pause in the eternal progress.
What is not longer essential is stripped
of and that which remains is the core
and inner truth Of life.
Mrs ALTA MIDKIFF.
We usually associate the autumn DAYS
with thoughts of decay and death. The
glorious pageant of summer Is ended, and
though nature hides her processes behind
a veil of exquisite autumnal color, we are
apt 10 yield ourselves 10 a sense Of per-
sonal sadness and loss as We contemplate
the spectacle OF the dying year.
The melancholy days have come, the
saddest OF the year, mournfully sings
the poet But. after all, why should thev
be sad days? Though we look about US
and see nature. as II were. In the thrOes
no true dying, but merely a restfui slum-
Der from which she will presently emerge
clad in the enchanting garb of spring
And so II suggestions OF physical decay
and death haunt us IN these autumn
days, let Us turn our thoughts forward TO
the greater glory that will be revealed 70
us in few fieeting months. and may
that in turn suggest 10 us that although
we too. must soma time reach the au-
tumn OF our lives and from thence pass
into the wintry sleep of death Il will
after all, be but 10 blossom forth ere
long IN that glorious eternal springtine
where there shall be no more death and
where sorrow and signing shall fee
away. ARTHUR ". BEER
An autumn sunset. with its crimson
cluods, glimmering trunks Of trees, and
wavering tints upon the grass. seems
scarcely capable Of embellishment.-W
mott.
The above writer was assuredly an op-
tlmlst 70 find an autumn sunset the most
beautiful OF the year Autumn IS rela-
vently called the sunset and the twi-
light Of the year. and winter the night
Of the year, and the last DAY Of winter
the real end OF the year, and the FIRST day
OF spring the real beginning OF another
new year, Hence the coming Of autumn
DAYS should no more dampen our opti-
nistic outlooks than the coming OF night
or twilight as another spring will dawn
as surely as another sunrise again comes
tomorrow And let as recall that night
has its glOries as well as day-glories OF
stars. &c; and so let US discover the
glories not only of spring and summer
but the amazing gloTies OF the autumn
days as well, and, too. the amazingly
beautiful glory Of our nocturnal winters
as nights OF the years. A II. JOYWELL.
The latest goddess is our guest
We have but now, with DAYS of tears
Baae sad good-by toasummers reign,
Perfected by the Weakening touch
Of glorious spring.
OF sisters three.
The f1rst bears opal tints, where Law
The hidden CLEANS and dreams OF iovg
To come. when summers wealth is
clothed
with topaz rays. until she faints
In dangerous ease amidst the songs
or birds and sweet perfume of flowers;
While softly swells the fertile earth a.
With bursting life 20 add her toll
OF vast supplies, TO fruit and Crane.
Which. garnered In the lap OF her
Who wears ne amett vstine robs.
Provides the world with food and cheer.
Thus richly laden stands our queen.
With tresses tossed by every breeze
And kissed by all the falling leaves.
Which. floating down In gorgeous hues,
Their homage pay.
But bark, a sound
Grown fainter now arrests the thought.
tiny, rhythmic sound, an oft
Repeated Groom through quiet nights.
Through many days. has grown from
week
To week-a constant insect song.
Now high. now Iowa lullaby
Impressed most fervently, since great
It's need. for Mother Earth has grown
A-weary with long weeks and months
OF light and life and seeks a cradle song.
Then 10, the autumnal winds arise
And beckon from the north the aid
OF her who folds the tired earth
In arms Of rest and peace.
And while
The snow most gently falls in deep
Recesses of the pregnant dark
New life is formed whose wondrous round
Brings man again the harvest time.
LUCY GRAVES TEMPLE
When the August days grow few when
natures insect orchestra becomes so en-
Unused that they play without eeasine
throughout the liveong night, telling of
luscious fruit hanging from the Dough,
OF grain heavy with It's golden Offering,
that which was hoped for in the frozen
time long months ago when the ground
was cold and sunshine pale, has been
realized and that the glorious harvest Is
about 10 be gathered in. then il is my
heart is glad for autumn is near at hand
autumn. that complete time OF the wear
when all nature has fulfilled its early
promise of perfection
Then IL Is that she steps forth with her
brush and paints in gorgeous hues the
landscape Her golden tresses spread
themselves throughout the amber sun
light. She stretches her arms to the
children Of men and from her bounteous
storehouse pours al their feet her rich
feast How can any one fail TO be in
tune with this the perfect time of all the
year? The reason would seem 70 he we
are prone 20 color the seasons with our
inner feelings and fail 10 make use of
our eyes and ears
Because some one. once upon a time
has written lines on the autumn. and in
so doing has chosen 10 color Il from his
cwn gloomy thoughts and speaks of au-
tumn as "a time when THE melancholy
days have come. the saddest of the year -
and because that some one possessed a
power IN the poetic world, the children
are taught these lines, so a binder is
put upon their eyes and their ears are not