When Mabel Comes In Town

I like the waves of red and gold

      That sweep the autumn hill,

The breeze which rushes up the wold

      With angry bite and chill.

I like the leaf-strewn autumn stream

      Which winds and weaves adown,

For that is when, with air supreme,

      Sweet Mabel comes to town.

All summer long she’s posed beside

      The gray and sullen sea

A heartless queen, and woe betide

      The world and all and me.

But now when comes the autumn glow

      No more she’ll pose or frown;

She’ll be her old sweet self, I know,

      When Mabel comes to town.

                                             Joe Cone

June 19, 1900