September

"The morrow was a bright September morn; The earth was beautiful as if new-born; There was that nameless splendor everywhere, That wild exhilaration in the air, Which makes the passers in the city street Congratulate each other as they meet."

"O sweet September, thy first breezes bring The dry leafs rustle and the squirrels laughter, The cool fresh air whence health and vigor spring And promise of exceeding joy hereafter."

"Come out tis now September, The hunters moons begun, And through the wheaten stubble Is heard the frequent gun."

"The sultry summer past, September comes, Soft twilight of the soft-declining year. All mildness, soothing loneliness and peace; The fading season ere the falling come."