In amber shade
The feast is laid.
The turkey is turning brown.
Out in the yard
The grass is starred
With leaves that are falling down.
The russet rolls.
The gravy bowls,
The pumpkin pies and tea
Are each and all
As brown as Fall,
Delectable to see.
The stuffing, perhaps,
May fall in our laps,
Or cranberries stain our array.
But we'll offer Heaven
A happy thanks giving,
In fellowship through the day.
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