The Hills Of Red And Gold

I like the hills of red and gold,

     Great gems set in the landscape rare;

Autumnal tints that now unfold

     And spread their glories everywhere.

I cannot make it seem the days

     Are melancholy, sad or drear;

To me the harvest time betrays

     The wealth and glory of the year.

We prune the vine for greater yield,

     Leaves turn and fall that more may grow;

One changing picture, wood and field,

     From tender green to glistening snow.

Give me the hills of red and gold,

     The crowning time, the harvest days;

When Nature, over wood and wold,

     Her master stroke of color days.

Sept. 27, 1904