Lady Autumn
November is a Lady fair
Clad in a russet gown
With copper scattered in her hair
And gold spun in her crown.
Her rich, red blood is blushing bright
Within that copse of trees;
She walks to meet the coming cold
With stately grace and ease.
Fair is her cousin, Spring, no doubt
In apple-blossoms shod
Who dances forth on airy wings
And turns our thoughts toward God.
Fairer yet is Sister Summer
With emeralds on her brow
And daisies in her azure hem--
To youth, her charms endow.
But Queen of wealth and beauty
In breeze of spiced perfume--
Fair November meets the Winter:
Lady Autumn and her Groom.
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