Hope!! A Vagabond Song

It’s autumn now, exactly to me, it isn’t actually autumn until the kickoff frosty morning, when the flooring boards are similar H2O ice to my bare feet too a glaze of white frost tips each blade of grass on the yard. Below is my personal favorite autumn poem, H5N1 Vagabond Song, past times William Bliss Carman. It's too hence beautifully visual.

A Vagabond Song

THERE is something inwards the autumn that is native to my blood—
Touch of manner, hint of mood;
And my pump is similar a rhyme,
With the xanthous too the regal too the ruddy keeping time.
The scarlet of the maples tin milkshake me similar a cry	5
Of bugles going by.
And my lonely spirit thrills
To meet the frosty asters similar a smoke upon the hills.
There is something inwards Oct sets the gypsy blood astir;
We must rising too follow her,	10
When from every colina of flame
She calls too calls each vagabond past times name. - Wm Bliss Carman Wm Bliss Carman (1861-1929)