The woodland path is full of light.
With maple fires returning;
The day succeeds the frosty night,
With sudden splendor burning;
The pines are black against the sky,
With shifting asters bordered,
Behind, the glowing forests lie,
In gold and scarlet broidered.
The line of birches to the right
Is melted into amber,
And up along the wooded height
The poison-ivies clamber;
By yonder stately chestnut, where
A mateless thrush is calling,
The leaves are dropping across the air
Like flakes of sunlight falling.
The woodland path is full of light,
And fever-fires returning;
The stinging frost of yester-night
Has set the maples burning;
The wood a regal color shows,
With purple asters bordered,
And Autumn’s dark-blue, mantle glows,
In gold and scarlet broidered!