Elfins of the Autumn night,
Gather! gather! work's to do:
Th re's the toadstool, plump and white,
To be lifted into view:
And the ghost-flower, like a light,
To be dight,
And washed white with moon and dew;
While the frog,
From the bog,
Watchmans us with"All is right."
Ouphes, come help the spider spin,
Stretch his webs for mist and moon;
Rim with rounded rain, or, thin,
Curve into a frosty lune:
Lift the mushroom's rosy chin,
Help it win
Through the leaves that lie aboon;
While the cricket
In the thicket
Makes its fairy fiddle din.
"Lift the Mushroom's rosy chin."
Brim the lichen-cups with rain;
Blow to feather the goldenrods;
Help the touchmenots, a-strain
To explode their ripened pods,
Sow their pattering seed again;
Help to stain
Every freckled flower that nods;
While with glee,
In its tree,
Chants the owl its wild refrain.
Drop the acorn in its place;
Split and spill the chestnuts' burrs;
Trail the weeds with pixy lace
Of the moony gossamers;
And with tricksy colors trace
Form and face
Of each leaf the wildwood stirs;
While the fox,
'Mid the rocks,
Barks, or times with ours his pace.
Elfin, ouphe, and gnarly gnome,
Ye who house the humble-bee,
Ride the slow snail to its home,
Wrap the worm up silkenly;
Ye who guard the wild bees' comb,
And the dome
Of the hornets in the tree,
Hear the call
One and all
Gather! gather, Autumn's come!