The November sun invites me, br And although the chill wind smites me, br I will wander to the woodland br Where the laden trees await; br And with loud and joyful singing br I will set the forest ringing, br As if I were king of Autumn, br And Dame Nature were my mate,-- br br While the squirrel in his gambols br Fearless round about me ambles, br As if he were bent on showing br In my kingdom he'd a share; br While my warm blood leaps and dashes, br And my eye with freedom flashes, br As my soul drinks deep and deeper br Of the magic in the air. br br There's a pleasure found in nutting, br All life's cares and griefs outshutting, br That is fuller far and better br Than what prouder sports impart. br Who could help a carol trilling br As he sees the baskets filling? br Why, the flow of song keeps running br O'er the high walls of the heart. br br So when I am home returning, br When the sun is lowly burning, br I will once more wake the echoes br With a happy song of praise,-- br For the golden sunlight blessing, br And the breezes' soft caressing, br And the precious boon of living br In the sweet November days.