.

October

Come while you may!
The woods are gay
With Autumn’s glories glowing;
And through the groves
The pheasant roves,
Where tangled brakes are growing.

Come while you may!
With trilling lay
The woodland thrush will cheer you;
And you may hear,
Low, sweet and clear,
The brooklet’s murmur near you.

Come while you may!
This sunny day
May end the scene of gladness,
Rude winds may tear
The branches bare,
And leave the woods to sadness.

— Juvenile Instructor, 15 October 1898