Duncan Campbell Scott (1862–1947)

SING me a song of the Autumn clear,

With the mellow days and the ruddy eves;

Sing me a song of the ending year,

With the piled-up sheaves.

Sing me a song of the apple bowers,

Of the great grapes the vine-field yields,

Of the ripe peaches bright as flowers,

And the rich hop-fields.

Sing me a song of the fallen mast,

Of the sharp odour the pomace sheds,

Of the purple beets left last

In the garden beds.

Sing me a song of the toiling bees,

Of the long flight and the honey won,

Of the white hives under the apple-trees

In the hazy sun.

Sing me a song of the thyme and the sage,

Of sweet marjoram in the garden grey

Where goes my love Armitage

Pulling the summer savory.

Sing me a song of the red deep,

The long glow the sun leaves,

Of the swallows taking a last sleep

In the barn eaves.