October on the James

From granite shores the amber waters glide, And cool October turns the woods to gold; Like painted sails, the drifted leaves abide, Long shadows stretch where summer tales were told. In swirling pools the scarlet branches glow, Near Belle Isle's rocks, beneath the rustling trees; Reflecting skies upon the rapids slow, In whispers carried on the river breeze. Calm steeples rise above the fading light, High bridges watch the river rolling down, Mist gathers soft to greet the coming night, On ancient shores that wear Virginia's crown. Now evening settles in the crimson west, Deep in the dark, the waters find their rest.