To the breeze when no step is nigh:
Oh! thus forever the earth should send
Her grateful breath on high!

"And love us as emblems, night's dewy flowers,
Of hopes unto sorrow given, 10
That spring through the gloom of the darkest hours,
Looking alone to heaven."

JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER

AMERICA, 1807-1892

Indian Summer

From gold to gray
Our mild, sweet day
Of Indian summer fades too soon; 15
But tenderly
Above the sea
Hangs, white and calm, the hunter's moon.

In its pale fire
The village spire 5
Shows like the zodiac's spectral lance;
The painted walls
Whereon it falls
Transfigured stand in marble trance.

ALICE CARY

AMERICA, 1820-1871

November

The leaves are fading and falling, 10
The winds are rough and wild,
The birds have ceased their calling,
But let me tell you, my child,

Though day by day, as it closes,
Doth darker and colder grow, 15
The roots of the bright red roses
Will keep alive in the snow.

And when the winter is over
The boughs will get new leaves,
The quail will come back to the clover,
And the swallow back to the eaves.

The robin will wear on his bosom 5
A vest that is bright and new,
And the loveliest wayside blossoms
Will shine with the sun and dew.

The leaves to-day are whirling,
The brooks are all dry and dumb, 10
But let me tell you, my darling,
The spring will be sure to come.

There must be rough, cold weather,
And winds and rains so wild;
Not all good things together 15
Come to us here, my child.

So when some dear joy loses
Its beauteous summer glow,
Think how the roots of the roses
Are kept alive in the snow. 20

JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER

The Frost S