f faded grasses
There are trailing vines ablaze,
And the glory of warmth and color
Gleams through the autumn haze.

Like banners of marching armies
That farther and farther go;
Down the winding roads and valleys
The boughs of the sumacs glow.

So open your eyes, little children,
And open your hearts as well,
Till the charm of the bright October
Shall fold you in its spell.

_Angelina Wray._

A Message for the Year

Not who you are, but what you are,
That's what the world demands to know;
Just what you are, what you can do
To help mankind to live and grow.
Your lineage matters not at all,
Nor counts one whit your gold or gear,
What can you do to show the world
The reason for your being here?

For just what space you occupy
The world requires you pay the rent;
It does not shower its gifts galore,
Its benefits are only lent;
And it has need of workers true,
Willing of hand, alert of brain;
Go forth and prove what you can do,
Nor wait to count o'er loss or gain.

Give of your best to help and cheer,
The more you give the more you grow;
This message evermore rings true,
In time you reap whate'er you sow.
No failure you have need to fear,
Except to fail to do your best--
What have you done, what can you do?
That is the question, that the test.

_Elizabeth Clarke Hardy._

Song of the Chattahoochee[*]

Out of the hills of Habersham,
Down the valleys of Hall,
I hurry amain to reach the plain,
Run the rapid and leap the fall,
Split at the rock and together again,
Accept my bed, or narrow or wide,
And flee from folly on every side
With a lover's pain to attain the plain
Far from the hills of Habersham,
Far from the valleys of Hall.

All down the hills of Habersham,
All through the valleys of Hall,
The rushes cried "Abide, abide,"
The wilful waterweeds held me thrall,
The laving laurel turned my tide,
The ferns and the fondling grass said "Stay,"
The dewberry dipped for to work delay,
And the little reeds sighed "Abide, abide
Here in the hills of Habersham,
Here in the valleys of Hall."

High o'er the hills of Habersham,
Veiling the valleys of Hall,
The hickory told me manifold
Fair tales of shade, the poplar tall
Wrought me her shadowy self to hold,
The chestnut, the oak, the walnut, the pine,
O'erleaning, with flickering meaning and sign,
Said, "Pass not, so cold, these manifold
Deep shades of the hills of H