The fairest ladies always come

The latest to the ball ;
The grandest flowers always bloom

And sparkle in the fall.

When daisies sweet and lilies pied :
When summer roses all have died,
Thro' August fields, with stately stride,
There comes the splendid aster.

And not alone the fields she treads ;

They come a royal bevy ;
I love to see them hang their heads

With dazzling dewdrops heavy.

Some, like the princess, clad in blue,
And some prefer a livelier hue
For instance red 'twixt me and you
I love the snow-white aster.

They bloom before the country home

And blow away disaster ;
And in the village gardens you

Will always find an aster.

Till Indian summer winds are lost,
By every breeze their crowns are tossed,
For naught on earth but snow or frost
Can kill the stately aster.