I recently found this poem about Autumn written by Charles Dickens
'Tis pleasant on a fine spring morn
to see the buds expand;
'Tis pleasant in the summer time
To see the fruitful land;
'Tis pleasant on a winter's night
To sit around the blaze,
But what are joys like these, my boys,
To merry autumn days!
We hail the merry autumn days,
When leaves are turning red;
Because they're far more beautiful
Than anyone has said;
We hail the merry harvest time,
The gayest of the year,
The time of rich and bounteous crops,
Rejoicing and good cheer.
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