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Now ev'ry color can be seen
In leaves that were so lately green.
The woods have turned to lust'rous gold;
The nights are waxing long and cold.
The wights have blest each storehouse full;
We've feed enough for goat and bull,
And we will have no lack of bread;
Through wintertime we'll be well fed.
And now as Winternights approach
A frosty finger lends its touch:
The dandelion bulbs are sweet,
And parents scold for unshod feet.
'Tis time for thoughts to inward turn,
In evenings as the hearth-fires burn,
To those we love whose lives are past
Yet mem'ries of their deeds will last.
And children, as they sit in school,
Can't help but daydream now of Yule.
And though the wait some months may be,
They count the days with youthful glee.
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Image: "Autumn", 1973, by Konstantin Vasiljev, Russian painter 1942-1976
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