Full Lyrics
There is a beautiful spirit breathing now
Its mellow richness on the clustered trees,
And, from a beaker full of richest dyes,
Pouring new glory on the autumn woods,
And dipping in warm light the pillared clouds.
Morn, on the mountain, like a summer bird,
Lifts up her purple wing; and in the vales
The gentle wind, a sweet and passionate wooer,
Kisses the blushing leaf, and stirs up life
Within the solemn woods, [of ash deepcrimsoned,
And silver beech, and maple yellowleaved,]
Where Autumn, like a faint old man, sits down
By the wayside aweary. [Through the trees
The golden robin moves. The purple finch,
That on wild cherry and red cedar feeds,
A winter bird, comes with its plaintive whistle,
And pecks by the witchhazel, whilst aloud
From cottage roofs the warbling bluebird sings,
And merrily, with oftrepeated stroke,
Sounds from the threshingfloor the busy flail.]
Oh, what a glory doth this world put on
For him who, with a fervent heart, goes forth
Under the bright and glorious sky, and looks
On duties well performed, and days well spent!
