Explore "Autumn" by Bliss Carman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Now when the time of fruit and grain 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 of Samarcand: / 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.