Verse > Anthologies > Jessie B. Rittenhouse, ed. > The Little Book of Modern Verse
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Jessie B. Rittenhouse, ed. (1869–1948).  The Little Book of Modern Verse.  1917.
 
149. A Vagabond Song
 
By Bliss Carman
 
 
THERE is something in the autumn that is native to my blood—
Touch of manner, hint of mood;
And my heart is like a rhyme,
With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.
 
The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry        5
Of bugles going by.
And my lonely spirit thrills
To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills.
 
There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir;
We must rise and follow her,        10
When from every hill of flame
She calls and calls each vagabond by name.
 

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