Ode on Autumn

The earth, with AUTUMN'S precious fruits overspread,
Reflects the golden lustre of the morn;
The winding vale, and hill's exalted head,
Display their shining fields of ripen'd corn;
And in the fragrant orchard we behold
The savery fruitage, tinged with azure - purple - gold.

How gracious is the omniscient Lord of all,
Still mindful of his feeble creatures here;
His Providence directs the showers to fall,
And sun to shine - He rules the varied year;
His bounty gives rich harvests to our Isle,
And all our comforts flow from his benignant smile.

Abundant crops rejoice the farmer's heart,;
And over the field the willing reapers toil;
Innate Simplicity, unknown to Art,
Adorns each blooming visage with a smile;
Alternate rest and labour pleasure give,
In rural innocence those useful rustics live.

O, Agriculture! Man's unfailing friend,
'Tis thine to cultivate the fertile ground;
The beautiful and useful thou dost blend,
And decorate sweet Nature's scenes around;
Without thee, famished cities, soon laid waste,
Would to oblivion sink, by silent Time defaced.

Amid the plenitude of Nature's stores,
Which all that live on earth with food sustain,
The pious mortal Nature's God adores,
Who blessed with rich increase the various grain -
Who all the changes of the seasons made,
And Plenty, in a robe of richest hues arrayed.