AUTUMN LIGHT

So bright and soft is the sweet air of morning,

And so tenderly the light descends,

And blesses with its gentle-falling fingers

All the leaves unto the valley's ends —

It brings them all to being when it touches

With its paleness every glowing vein;

The wild and flaming hollows of the forest

Kindle all their crimson in its rain;

And every curve receives its share of morning,

Every little shadow softly grows,

And motion finds a melody more tender

That like a phantom through the branches goes —

So bright and soft and tranquil-rendering,

And quiet in its giving, as though love,

The morning dream of life, were born of longing,

And really poured its being from above.