September brings the ripening sun,
The clear sharp morning air,
And asters in a border wide,
And daisies for the garden's pride,
And foxgloves everywhere.
Among the rushes and the reeds
Long purples bend and sway,
Between the water and the land,
Beside the shining stream they stand
Till Autumn fades away.
Plant crocuses and tulips rare,
To bloom in next Year's Spring,
And crown imperials rich and fine,
To stand up in a glorious line
Amid new blossoming.