13 OCTOBER 1894, Page 31

POETRY.

MERRY AUTUMN.

GOLDEN woodland, sea-blue sky, Crests of cloud-waves tossed on high ;

Bouncing breezes, lustrous showers, Leaves and berries gay as flowers Purple storms in rainbow belt, Morning frosts that flash and melt ; Dawns arrayed in gorgeous light, Dazzled earth in motley dight.

Robins flute a sprightly tune, Orchards glow with apples strewn ; Sunbeams bless the gathered sheaves, Children chase the skipping leaves ; Buds glow plump in glossy sheath; Who dare call this rapture death P Autumn's neither sick nor sad ; Spring's begotten ; God is glad.

ALFRED HAYES.