Classic Poem

When come the melancholy days,
As sung by William Cullen Bryant,
When through the matutinal haze
The well-known orb of day shines riant,
How sweet to roam the stubbly wold!
How sweet the city, clear and cold!

When blooms the yellow eglantine
(Or that which blooms in late October),
When draughts of air than Gascon wine
(To coin a phrase) make you less sober,
I like the hillside, sere and brown
And even better like the town.

When tangful blows the autumn breeze,
And when the frost (see Mr. Riley);
When winds denude the weeping trees,
Esteem I then the country highly.
How sweet to sing about the fall!
How sweeter not to sing at all!