While the moon through the heavens glides,
With music enchanting our way,
Come in the gladness to stray
Of the gorgeous autumn-tides.
Now comes the wind, and lifts
The gold of glad forests along;
And many a mystical song
Along the breeze with it drifts.
This life is most gracious and dear,
Enchanting our way as we go
With the laughter and golden glow
Of autumns singing clear.