Anthem to God for Autumn



Roy J. Wilkins


Fields of countless corn shocks

All in perfect line

Like a guard of soldiers,

Tall and straight and fine,

Pumpkins piled beside them

Orange-colored shapes,

Frost-killed vines a-trailing

Like torn and tattered drapes;

A pheasant comes a-flying,

A streak of gorgeous hue

Blending with the sunset

Of multi-colors, too.

In the distant wood lot

A squirrel climbs the trees,

While leaves of gold and crimson

Are trembling in the breeze.

Oh, when it comes to autumn

Is there not a special reason

For praising God for beauties

Of this specially lovely season?