The Leaves Wore Silver

The leaves wore silver for the late autumn ball, The trees were bare-naked, clear down to the soil; Burnt-umber and crimson were the colors, that year, And the dances uproarious, for the ending was near. The clouds wore white linings, with grey silken ties, The wind it was festive, with wild high-pitched cries; The colors of sunset were the touch so divine, That the sun and the moon were half hidden by shine. The breezes stayed brisk and the landscapes rattled; The mice very frisky and the shutters tattled; The party was rumored as the best, all around, Till the white blanket fell and soon smothered the ground.