rees look down
On the green fields below.

My steps are not alone
In these bright walks; the sweet south-west, at play
Flies, rustling, where the painted leaves are strown
Along the winding way.

And far in heaven, the while,
The sun, that sends that gale to wander here,
Pours out on the fair earth his quiet smile,--
The sweetest of the year.

Where now the solemn shade,
Verdure and gloom where many branches meet:
So grateful, when the noon of summer made
The valleys sick with heat?

Let in through all the trees
Come the strange rays; the forest depths are bright,
Their sunny-coloured foliage, in the breeze,
Twinkles, like beams of light.

The rivulet, late unseen,
Where bickering through the shrubs its waters run,
Shines with the image of its golden screen
And glimmerings of the sun.

Oh, Autumn! why so soon
Depart the hues that make thy forests glad,
Thy gentle wind and thy fair sunny noon,
And leave thee wild and sad!

Ah! 'twere a lot too blest
Forever in thy coloured shades to stray;
Amid the kisses of the soft south-west
To rove and dream for aye;

And leave the vain low strife
That makes men mad--the tug for wealth and power,
The passions and the cares that wither life,
And waste its little hour.

Bryant

IN A CANOE

Among all the modes of progression hitherto invented by restless man,
there is not one that can compare in respect of comfort and luxury with
travelling in a birch-bark canoe. It is the poetry of progression. Along
the bottom of the boat are laid blankets and bedding; a sort of
wicker-work screen is sloped against the middle thwart, affording a
delicious support to the back; and indolently, in your shirt sleeves if
the day be warm, or well covered with a blanket if it is chilly, you sit
or lie on this most luxurious of couches, and are propelled at a rapid
rate over the smooth surface of a lake or down the swift current of some
stream. If you want exercise, you can take a paddle yourself. If you
prefer to be inactive, you can lie still and placidly survey the
scenery, rising occasionally to have a shot at a wild duck; at
intervals reading, smoking, and sleeping. Sleep, indeed, you will enjoy
most luxuriously, for the rapid bounding motion of the canoe as it leaps
forward at every impulse of the crew, the s