Heart of autumn! Weather meet, Like to sherbert Cool and sweet.
Stock-still I stand, And him I see Prying, peeping From Beech-tree; Crickling, crackling Gleefully! But, affrighted By wee sound, Presto! vanish-- Whither bound?
So did Baby, Crowing mirth E'en as startled By some inkling Touching Earth, Flit (and whither?) From our hearth!
