MICHAELMAS.

The brief September days are waning fast, And a soft mellow fragrance fills the air With Autumn’s sweetest incense; now the leaves Begin to colour, and the varied hues Of scarlet, amber, russet, crimson, dun, Hang over wood and forest. The bright stars Of the chrysanthemums dot everywhere The cottage gardens; the sweet mignonette Still sheds her perfume ’neath the fuchsia-bells; Scarlet geraniums and lobelias Are in their fullest glory; here and there A rose late-lingering shows her crimson cup, Though gone her beauteous fellows; and aloft The dahlia holds high her queenly head, The sovereign absolute of all the band. The swallows, gathering for departure, twit Their shrill farewell; the dormouse and the bat Go into winter-quarters; short the days, And chill the lengthening nights: For comes apace Mellow October, last of the three months That own the Autumn’s reign; then fogs and wet, And snow and ice and wind-storms close the scene.