The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar · Paul Laurence Dunbar

Nutting Song

412 of 424 · 1 min of reading

The November sun invites me,

And although the chill wind smites me,

I will wander to the woodland

Where the laden trees await;

And with loud and joyful singing

I will set the forest ringing,

As if I were king of Autumn,

And Dame Nature were my mate,--

While the squirrel in his gambols

Fearless round about me ambles,

As if he were bent on showing

In my kingdom he'd a share;

While my warm blood leaps and dashes,

And my eye with freedom flashes,

As my soul drinks deep and deeper

Of the magic in the air.

There's a pleasure found in nutting,

All life's cares and griefs outshutting,

That is fuller far and better

Than what prouder sports impart.

Who could help a carol trilling

As he sees the baskets filling?

Why, the flow of song keeps running

O'er the high walls of the heart.

So when I am home returning,

When the sun is lowly burning,

I will once more wake the echoes

With a happy song of praise,--

For the golden sunlight blessing,

And the breezes' soft caressing,

And the precious boon of living

In the sweet November days.

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End of part 412 of 424