Oh, Autumn, in gorgeous raiment,
What artist is the blame?
He has
daubled his colors here and there,
In one great glory of color and
prayer,
Till the
woods are all aflame.
There are
browns and deepest crimsons,
Orange and sunny tans,
Scarlet and
dim old yellows,
Done by a Master’s hand,
It is spread
for eyes to feast on,
And it helps to understand.
Katherine
Carey-Place 1878-1934
October 1915
Copyright
Roy Richard
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