Autumn

Autumn succeeds, in flaming Yellow clad, With Fullness smiling and with Plenty glad. Laden with sunny Fruits of ev'ry Kind, He dar'd the Cold that waited close behind. A Wreath of ripen'd Corn his Temples bound, Enrich'd with Leaves and clust'ring Grapes around. An Harvest Crook employ'd his better Hand, To reap the Grain and ease the burden'd Land.