Autumn’s Incense by W. D. Nesbit

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Washington, D. C. · Oct 29, 1903

Autumn’s Incense

By W. D. Nesbit

A SUBTLE incense fills the air, And mingles with the sighing Of breezes that this message bear: “The good old year is dying.”

The creeping, dull October haze Grows slowly, surely denser, And through the closing of the days There swings a smoking censer.

A censer heaped with autumn leaves From green to crimson turning— The vapor a weird pattern weaves The while the leaves are burning.

In airy arabesques it sways While twilight shades are glooming, And all the shadow and the haze The incense is perfuming.

The tang of it is wondrous sweet— It is with summer scented; It holds the rustle of the wheat Through days glad and contented: It has a whisper of the rose, And apple blossom’s savor, And June days with their lazy doze Where grasses lent a flavor.

And so the censer slowly swings While fields and woods are fading, And memories of summer brings When day to night is shading.

The burning leaves with spicy smoke Join with the breezes sighing Through golden beech and reddened oak, “The good old year is dying.” — W. D. Nesbit, in Chicago Tribune.