TO AUTUMN.

Sweet Autumn! how the melancholy grace
Steals on my heart, as through these shades I wind!
Sooth'd by thy breathing sigh, I fondly trace
Each lonely image of the pensive mind!
Lov'd scenes, lov'd friends — long lost! around me rise,
And wake the melting thought, the tender tear!
That tear, that thought, which more than mirth I prize —
Sweet as the gradual tint that paints thy year!
Thy farewell smile, with fond regret, I view,
Thy beaming lights, soft gliding o'er the woods;
Thy distant landscape, touch'd with yellow hue,
While falls the lengthen'd gleam; thy winding floods,
Now veil'd in shade, save where the skiff's white sails
Swell to the breeze, and catch thy streaming ray.
But now, e'en now! — the partial vision fails,
And the wave smiles, as sweeps the cloud away!
Emblem of life! — Thus checquer'd is its plan,
Thus joy succeeds to grief — thus smiles the varied man!