Old November, sere and brown, br Clothes the country, haunts the town, br Sheds its cloak of withered leaves, br Brings its sighing, soughing breeze. br Prophet of the dying year, br Builder of its funeral bier, br Bring your message here to men; br Sound it forth that they may ken br What of Life and what of Death br Linger on your frosty breath. br Let men know to you are given br Days of thanks to God in heaven; br Thanks for things which we deem best, br Thanks, O God, for all the rest br That have taught us--(trouble, strife, br Bring thru Death a larger life)-- br Death of our base self and fear-- br (Even as the dying year, br Though through cold and frost, shall bring br Forth a new and glorious spring)-- br Shall shed over us the sway br Of a new and brighter day, br With Hope, Faith and Love alway.