My life's long radiant Summer halts at last
    And lo! beside my pathway I behold
Pursuing Autumn glide: nor frost nor cold
    Has heralded her presence; but a vast
Sweet calm that comes not till the year has passed
    Its fevered solstice, and a tinge of gold
Subdues the vivid coloring of bold
    And passion-hued emotions. I will cast
My August days behind me with my May,
    Nor strive to drag them into Autumn's place,
Nor swear I hope when I do but remember.
    Now violet and rose have had their day
I'll pluck the soberer asters with good grace
    And call September nothing but September.