SONG OF AUTUMN.

Bring out the rakes and sweaters, love—
    It’s fall again! It’s fall again!
And curtsy to your betters, love:
    Jack Frost has come to call again.
The prince of painters, with his brush,
Is coming in an awful rush
To make artistic shades from green
That fall and cause each lawn machine
    To stall again—to stall again.
    It’s fall again! It’s fall again!