I feel the season's dreamy call

I feel the season's dreamy call
In hawkbit, asters, 'pyeweed tall,--
Glory of August ere September
Trumpet the note of the hasting fall.

A flash in crystal waters cold--
O dream in silver, red, and gold--
The speckled trout above the gravel
Lies by the rock where the stream is rolled!

Grasshoppers chirp and crickets chir,
The rich-tagged alders nod and pur,
The kine bells drowse the distant pasture,--
All nature waits for the coming stir.