AUTUMN DAYS by MARGARET ELIZABETH MUNSON SANGSTER

INTO the cup of our life to-day
What sweet, what spice is poured,
When every step of the common way
Is a garden of the Lord,
With the golden lights and the purple shades
Blending in rich accord.

As soon might we count the star beams
Or the sand on the shifting shore,
As number the flowers that baffle
Desire with more and more,
As if heaven had opened her windows
And rained them out of her store

By swamp and field and meadow,
On the edge of the mountain brook,
By the worn old fence and the hedge-row,
In the tiniest hidden nook—
Flowers in royal splendor
Wherever you chance to look.

And the zest of the autumn noontide,
The crisp of the autumn night,
The feeling of rest after labor,
The wonderful crystal light,
It is joy of joys to be living
With the year at its crowning height.

Thank God for the beauty broadcast
Over our own dear land;
Thank God, who, to feed His children,
Opens His bounteous hand;
Thank God for the lavish harvests,
Thank Him from strand to strand.

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