It’s lovely in the country in October,
The hills are massed in color bright and gay,
The maple, the beechnut and the sumac,
Greet one with marvelous beauty on the way,
All up the winding trail it spreads before you.
A glory that God painted over night,
From valley to the highest summit,
Colors blend in skies of blue and clouds of white.
There are scarlets that no artist’s brush can copy,
There are yellows like a mass of golden glow.
The tans, the browns and orange, the green of hemlocks,
Are scattered o’re the hill-tops high and low.
All colors of the rainbow, each one is here to greet you,
Every hue of sunset sky at close of day,
While beyond the mountain range there’s hazy purple,
And along the lower slope there’s misty gray.
With sunlight streaming warmly through the branches,
A sky of perfect blue above it all,
It’s a picture that will hold your heart enchanted,
Just a picture of the country in the Fall,
There may be marvelous sights and scenes of beauty,
And places that are lovely to behold,
But no brush can paint the charms of Autumn woodland,
When October turns the hills to molten gold.
Katherine Carey-Place 1878-1934
Copyright Roy Richard