A Letter from Camp by Walt Whitman

1. "Come up from the fields, father, here's a letter from our Pete; / And come to the front door, mother -- here's a letter from thy dear son."

2. Lo, 'tis autumn; / Lo, where the trees, deeper green, yellower and redder, / Cool and sweeten Ohio's villages, with leaves fluttering in the moderate wind; / Where apples ripe in the orchards hang, and grapes on the trellised vines; / Smell you the smell of the grapes on the vines? / Smell you the buckwheat, where the bees were lately buzzing?