Autumn.

Paint brightly, for the Winter comes;
Paint brightly, make a festival
Of colour—–
On the domes
Of hills, spill brilliant gold and red,
And flame and crimson over all.
Paint gaily—berries, leaves and flowers
Must cheer the heart these fleeting hours
Before they fall….
Paint sunsets too, of rarest hue
Be lavish with these things; make gay
Each moment of the Autumn day.
Paint brightly, for the snows will come;—
Make splendid Autumn's harvest home.

—Olga P. Meyer.