"Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above,
it comes down from the Father of all light, in Whom there
can be no variation, rising or setting, or shadow cast by
His turning as in an eclipse.
And it was of His own free will that He gave us birth
by His Word of Truth, so that we should be a kind of
firstfruits of His creatures, a sample of what He
created to be consecrated to Himself."
(James 1:17-18)
Now when the time of fruit and gain is come
When apples hang above the orchard wall,
And from the tangle by the roadside stream
A scent of wild grapes fills the racy air,
Comes Autumn with her sunburnt caravan
Like a long gypsy train with trappings gay
And tattered colors of the Orient,
Moving slow-footed through the dreamy hills.
The woods of Wilton at her coming wear
Tints of Bokhara and Samarkand;
The maples glow with their Pompeian red,
The hickories with burnt Etruscan gold;
And while the crickets fife along her march,
Behind her banners burns the crimson sun.
"Autumn"
Bliss Carman
(1861-1929)
Canadian poet
During his later years, he was acclaimed
as Canada's Poet Laureate
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