Welcome to you rich Autumn days,
Ere comes the cold, leaf-picking wind;
When golden stocks are seen in fields,
All standing arm-in-arm entwinted;
And gallons of sweet cider seen
On trees in apples red and green.
With mellow pears that cheat our teeth,
Which melt that tongues may suck them in;
With cherries red, and blue-black plums,
Now sweet and soft from stone to skin;
And woodnuts rich, to make us go
Into loveliest lanes we know.
("Rich Days" by William Henry Davies)
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