SONG — AUTUMN

By George Meredith

When nuts behind the hazel-leaf

Are brown as the squirrel that hunts them free,

And the fields are rich with the sun-burnt sheaf,

‘ Mid the blue cornflower and the yellowing tree;

And the farmer glows and beams in his glee;

O then is the season to wed thee a bride!

Ere the garners are filled and the ale-cups foam;

For a smiling hostess is the pride

And flower of every Harvest Home.