Thanksgiving

<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN> <h2 id="id00325" style="margin-top: 4em"> THANKSGIVING.</h2> <p id="id00326" style="margin-top: 2em">  The Autumn hills are golden at the top,<br/> And rounded as a poet's silver rhyme;<br/> The mellow days are ruby ripe, that drop<br/> One after one into the lap of time.<br/></p> <p id="id00327">  Dead leaves are reddening in the woodland copse,<br/> And forest boughs a fading glory wear;<br/> No breath of wind stirs in their hazy tops,<br/> Silence and peace are brooding everywhere.<br/></p> <p id="id00328">  The long day of the year is almost done,<br/> And nature in the sunset musing stands,<br/> Gray-robed, and violet-hooded like a nun,<br/> Looking abroad o'er yellow harvest lands:<br/></p> <p id="id00329">  O'er tents of orchard boughs, and purple vines<br/> With scarlet flecked, flung like broad banners out<br/> Along the field paths where slow-pacing lines<br/> Of meek-eyed kine obey the herdboy's shout;<br/></p> <p id="id00330">  Where the tired ploughman his dun oxen turns,<br/> Unyoked, afield, mid dewy grass to stray,<br/> While over all the village church spire burns—<br/> A shaft of flame in the last beams of day.<br/></p> <p id="id00331">  Empty and folded are her busy hands;<br/> Her corn and wine and oil are safely stored,<br/> As in the twilight of the year she stands,<br/> And with her gladness seems to thank the Lord.<br/></p> <p id="id00332">  Thus let us rest awhile from toil and care,<br/> In the sweet sabbath of this autumn calm,<br/> And lift our hearts to heaven in grateful prayer,<br/> And sing with nature our thanksgiving psalm.<br/></p> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />