An
AUTUMNAL
ODE
.
By
the
Same
.
I.
YET
once
more
,
glorious
God
of
day
,
While
beams
thine
orb
serene
,
O
let
me
warbling
court
thy
stay
To
gild
the
fading
scene
!
Thy
rays
invigorate
the
Spring
,
Bright
Summer
to
perfection
bring
,
The
cold
,
inclement
days
of
Winter
cheer
,
And
make
th'
Autumnal
months
the
mildest
of
the
year
.
II
.
Ere
yet
the
russet
foliage
fall
,
I'll
climb
the
mountain's
brow
,
My
friend
,
my
Hayman
,
at
thy
call
,
To
view
the
scene
below
:
How
sweetly
pleasing
to
behold
Forests
of
vegetable
gold
!
How
mix'd
the
many-chequer'd
shades
between
The
tawny
mellowing
hue
,
and
the
gay
vivid
green
!
III
.
How
splendid
all
the
sky
!
how
still
!
How
mild
the
dying
gale
!
How
soft
the
whispers
of
the
rill
That
winds
along
the
dale
!
So
tranquil
Nature's
works
appear
,
It
seems
the
Sabbath
of
the
year
;
As
if
,
the
Summer's
Labour
past
,
she
chose
This
season's
sober
calm
for
blandishing
repose
.
IV
.
Such
is
of
well-spent
life
the
time
,
When
busy
days
are
past
,
Man
verging
gradual
from
his
prime
,
Meets
sacred
Peace
at
last
:
His
flowery
Spring
of
pleasures
o'er
,
And
Summer's
full-blown
pride
no
more
,
He
gains
pacific
Autumn
,
meek
and
bland
,
And
dauntless
braves
the
stroke
of
Winter's
palsy'd
hand
.
V.
For
yet
awhile
,
a
little
while
,
Involv'd
in
wint'ry
gloom
,
And
lo
!
another
Spring
shall
smile
,
A
Spring
eternal
bloom
;
Then
shall
he
shine
,
a
glorious
guest
,
In
the
bright
mansions
of
the
blest
,
Where
due
rewards
on
Virtue
are
bestow'd
,
And
reap
the
golden
fruits
of
what
his
Autumn
sow'd
.