Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods and day by day the dead leaves fall and melt.

Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woodsAnd day by day the dead leaves fall and melt.

The last dead leaves of fall crackled underfoot, winter-crisp.

Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods
And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt.

Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods, And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt, And night by night the monitory blast Wails in the key-hole, telling how it pass'd O'er empty fields, or upland solitudes, Or grim wide wave; and now the power is felt Of melancholy, tenderer in its moods Than any joy indulgent Summer dealt.

I guess I'm just feeling Septemberish," sighed Chester. "It's getting towards autumn now. And it's so pretty up in Connecticut. All the trees change color. The days get very clear―with a little smoke on the horizon from burning leaves. Pumpkins begin to come out.