I saw old Autumn in the misty morn Stand shadowless like silence, listening To silence, for no lonely bird would sing Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn, Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn;- Shaking his languid locks all dewy bright With tangled gossamer that fell by night, Pearling his coronet of golden corn.

She stood breast-high amid the corn Clasp'd by the golden light of morn, Like the sweetheart of the sun, Who many a glowing kiss had won.

Oh would I were dead now, Or up in my bed now, To cover my head now, And have a good cry!

My books kept me from the ring, the dog-pit, the tavern, and the saloon.

Some minds improve by travel, others, rather, resemble copper wire, or brass, which get the narrower by going farther.

Gold! gold! gold! gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold!

But evil is wrought by want of thought, As well as want of heart!