Verse > Anthologies > Louis Untermeyer, ed. > Modern American Poetry
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Louis Untermeyer, ed. (1885–1977). Modern American Poetry.  1919.
 
Bliss Carman. 1861–
 
24. A Vagabond Song
 
THERE is something in the autumn that is native to my blood— 
Touch of manner, hint of mood; 
And my heart is like a rhyme, 
With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time. 
  
The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry         5
Of bugles going by. 
And my lonely spirit thrills 
To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills. 
  
There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir; 
We must rise and follow her,  10
When from every hill of flame 
She calls and calls each vagabond by name. 
 
 
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