The Topaz Story Book: Stories and Legends of Autumn, Hallowe'en, and Thanksgiving
Part 15
Know ye that the Lord he _is_ God; It is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves; We are his people and the sheep of his pasture. Enter into his gates with thanksgiving And into his courts with praise, Be thankful unto him, _and_ bless his name.
For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting: And his truth endureth to all generations. --_Psalm C._
THE CROWN OF THE YEAR
Ah, happy morning of autumn sweet, Yet ripe and rich with summer’s heat.
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Near me each humble flower and weed---- The dock’s rich umber, gone to seed, The hawk-bit’s gold, the bayberry’s spice, One late wild rose beyond all price; Each is a friend and all are dear, Pathetic signs of the waning year.
The painted rose-leaves, how they glow! Like crimson wine the woodbines show; The wholesome yarrow’s clusters fine, Like frosted silver dimly shine; And who thy quaintest charm shall tell, Thou little scarlet pimpernel?
In the mellow, golden autumn days, When the world is zoned in their purple haze, A spirit of beauty walks abroad, That fills the heart with peace of God; The spring and summer may bless and cheer, But autumn brings us the crown o’ the year. CELIA THAXTER.