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AUTUMN.

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AUTUMN. The trees are stripp'd and bare, ) Their foliage strewed around; They've cast away their tresses, t To be trampled on the ground Once they were green like emeralds, But now they're sear'd and dead; Their sun-lit robes of beauty Are o'er the pathway spread. As garments once well-worn, Although not cast away, When changed into another form Will useful prove some day,— So trees, in seeming death, For life may yet be found To be prepared by Autumn's change, And so they pass their round. We call them dried and dead, But nature never dies; By chang like day and night, All in succession rise Earth goes to earth,—the gases, too, To their own sources fly, To animate some other forms When Spring again is nigh. If dead, instead of changed, Earth's succour would decay; The sap, the bud, the blossom Would for ever pass away They'd not return when spring-time Should make leaf and bud appear, But a barren gloom would reign,— There'd be no changing year. Like nature, 80 with man We, too, shall never die; A change awaits us all; Though sear'd, and brown'd, and dry. The chrysalis contains the germ Of life, though it seems dead,— 'Tis only waiting for the Spring To raise its drooping head. So man contains life's germ,— from buds and blossoms, he Will some day ripen into fruit, Whate'er that fruit may be. Pleasant it may prove to taste. Or nauseous, perhaps, be found It may a blessing prove to all, Or, weed-like, curse the ground. J. II.

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