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Paul Laurence Dunbar - Nutting Song
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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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