Frank Dempster Sherman


Here's a lyric for September,

Best of all months to remember;

Month when summer breezes tell

What has happened, wood and dell,

Of the joy the year has brought,

And the changes she has wrought.

She has turned the verdure red;

In the blue sky overhead,

She the harvest moon has hung,

Like a silver boat among

Shoals of stars—bright jewels set

In the earth's blue coronet;

She has brought the orchard's fruit

To repay the robin's flute

Which has gladdened half the year

With a music liquid, clear;

And she makes the meadow grass

Catch the sunbeams as they pass,

Till the autumn's floor is rolled

With a fragrant cloth of gold.