I walked along a country road,
one sunny autumn day.
And gazed upon the beauty,
The woodland did portray.
Red and green, brown and gold,
Such wondrous beauty to behold,
I stood in awe in this beautiful land.
Knowing it was the touch of the masters hand.
Soon this beauty will fade,
And the chilly winds flow,
And the hills be covered with a blanket of snow.
Then once more spring will reappear,
with flowers in bloom and the robin, so dear;
It's all so amazing and O so grand;
Because of the touch of the master's hand.