October Woods

October woods, soft red and gold,

     Bejeweled rich and rare;

Dame Nature’s crowning handiwork,

     A gem beyond compare.

Myriad tints, a molten mass

     Of blended harmony!

October woods, in Nature’s crown

     No gem compares with thee.

October woods, I love to stroll

     Within thy sacred pales;

Too soon thy barren limbs will rock

     In fierce November gales.

Too soon thy beauty will have passed

     To drear obscurity;

But through it all, October woods,

     I still shall dream of thee.

Sept. 9, 1901