While you caught the butterflies under your hat.

With gay happy hearts to the woodland we strayed,
When autumn its rich pensive beauty displayed;
The robin was chanting her sweet farewell song,
While blithe little squirrels went skipping along.

Those bright little rogues which the husbandmen scorn,
Sly'd into their holes with their cheeks full of corn;
The clear mellow sunlight, in quivering streams,
Sent through the tall tree tops its roseate beams.

Jack Frost and October, when evenings grew cold,
Had drest up the forest in crimson and gold;
The bright leaves were borne on the wings of the breeze,
While we picked up beach-nuts from under the trees.

When trees were all leafless, and snow-clad the ground,
Sweet pleasures at home in our cottage we found;
'Round our bright blazing fire, we'd work, read, or play,
And find sweet employment to fill up each day.

And when evening came, the old hearth we'd surround,
While you cracked the nuts, which in autumn we found,
I tended my kittens, and made up their bed,
You made them a yoke and a nice little sled.

We heard the hens cackle, and thought we were blest,
You flew to the hayloft, and found a full nest,
Then caught up the treasure, and smiled as you run,