AUTUMN WOODS.
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pY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.

 Ere, in the northern gale. The summer tresses of the trees are gone, The woods of autumn, all around our vale

 Have put their glory on.

 The mountains that nfold In their wide sweep, the colour'd landscape round, Seein groups of giant kings, in purpled gold,

 That guard the enchante1 ground.

 roam inc woods that crown Tue upland where the mingled spendors glow, Where the gay company of trees look down

 On the green fields below.

 My steps are not alone In these bright walks; the sweet southwest at play Flies, rustng, where tine painted leaves are sirown

 Along the winding way

 And far In heaven, the while. The sun, that sends that gale to wander here, Pours out on the fair earth his qniet smile,-

 The sweetest of the year.

 Where now the solemn shade, Verdure and gloom where many branches meet; So grateful, when the noon of summer made

 The valleys sick with heatl

 Let in through all the trees Come the strange rays the forest depths are bright Their sunny-colord d foliage, in the breeze,

 Wrinkles, like beams of light

 The riyuIci, late unseen, Where pickering through the shrubs ifs waters run Shines with the image of its golden screen,

 And gIimmcrings of the sun.

 But meath yen crimson tree, Lover to listening maid might breathe his flame. Nor mark within its roseat canopy,

 Her blush of maiden shame.

 0, Autumn. why ss soon If fha hua hat aka t.tf riaH. Thy gentle wind and thy fair sunny noon,

 And leave thee wild and sad7

 An. 'twere lot too bsess'd Forever in thy coioar'd sitadss to stray; Amid the kisses of the soft southwest

 To rove and dream for aye.

 And leave the vain low strife That makes men mad; the tug for wealth andpowcT The passions and the cares that wither life,

 And waste its l.stle hour.