 October, by Paul Lawrence Dunvarn. Read for LibriVox.org by Alan Clare. October is the treasurer of the year and all the months pay bounty to her storm. The fields and orchards still their tribute bear and fill her brimming coffers more and more. As she, with youthful lavishness, spends all her wealth in gaudy dress, and decks herself in garments, bold of scarlet, purple, red and gold. She heeded not how swift the hours fly, but smiles and sings a happy life along. She only sees above a shining sky, she only hears the breezes voice in song. Her garments trail the woodland through, and gather pearls of early dew that sparkle till the roguish sun creeps up and steals them every one. But what cares she that jewels should be lost, when all of nature's bounteous wealth is hers? Though princely fortunes may have been their cost, no one regret her calm demeanour stirs. Wholehearted, happy, careless, free, she lives her life out joyously, nor cares when frost stalks o'er her way, and turns her urban locks to grey. October is the treasurer of the year, and all the months pay bounty to her store. The fields and orchards still their tribute bear, and fill her brimming coffers more and more. But she, with youthful lavishness, spends all her wealth in gaudy dress, and decks herself in garments bold of scarlet, purple, red and gold. She heeded not how swift the hours fly, but smiles and sings her happy life along. She only sees above the shining sky, she only hears the breezes voice in song. Her garments trail the woodland through, and gather pearls of early dew that sparkle till the roguish sun creeps up and steals them every one. But what cares she that jewels should be lost, when all of nature's bounteous wealth is hers? Though princely fortunes may have been their cost, not one regret her calm demeanour stirs. Wholehearted, happy, careless, free, she lives her life out joyously, nor cares when frost stalks o'er her way, and turns her urban locks to grey. October is the treasurer of the year, and all the months pay bounty to her store. The fields and orchards still their tribute bear, and fill her brimming coffers more and more. But she, with youthful lavishness, spends all her wealth in gaudy dress, and decks herself in garments bold of scarlet, purple, red and gold. She heeded not how swift the hours fly, but smiles and sings her happy life along. She only sees above a shining sky, she only hears the breezes voice in song. Her garments trail the woodland through, and gather pearls of early dew, that sparkle tell the roguish sun creeps up and steals them every one. But what cares she that jewels should be lost, when all of nature's bounteous wealth is hers? Though princely fortunes may have been their cost, not one regret her calm demeanour stirs. Paul hearted, happy, careless, free. She lives her life out joyously, nor cares when frost stalks o'er her way, and turns her all-burned locks to grey. OCTOBER is the treasurer of the year, and all the months pay bounty to her store. The fields and orchards still their tributes bear, and fill her brimming coffers more and more. But she, with youthful lavishness, sends all her wealth in gaudy dress, and decks herself in garments bold of scarlet, purple, red, and gold. She heeded not how swift the hours fly, but smiles and sings her happy life along. She only sees above a shining sky, she only hears the breezes voice in song. Her garments trail the woodland through, and gather pearls of early dew that sparkle till the roguish sun keeps up and steals them every one. But what cares she that jewels should be lost when all of nature's bounties wealth is hers? Though princely fortunes may have been their cost, not one regret her calm demeanour stirs. Full hearted, happy, careless, free, she lives her life out joyously, no cares when frost stalks all her way, and turns her all-burned locks to grey, and to poem. This recording is in the public domain. October by Paul Lawrence Dunbar. Read for LibriVox.org by Clarica. October is the treasurer of the year, and all the months pay bounty to her store. The fields and orchards still their tribute bear, and fill her brimming coffers more and more. But she, with youthful lavishness, spends all her wealth in gaudy dress, and decks herself in garments bold of scarlet, purple, red, and gold. She heeded not how swift the hours fly, but smiles, and sings her happy life along. She only sees above a shining sky. She only hears the breezes voice in song. Her garments trail the woodland through, and gather pearls of early dew, that sparkle till the roguish sun creeps up and steals them every one. But what cares she that jewels should be lost when all of nature's bountious wealth is hers. Though princely fortunes may have been their cost, not one regret her calm demeanor stirs. Wholehearted, happy, careless, free, she lives her life out joyously. Nor cares when frost stalks over her way, and turns her auburn locks to grey. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. October by Paul Lawrence Dunbar. Red for LibriVox.org by Dailybab. October is the treasurer of the year, and all the months pay bounty to her store. The fields and orchards still their tribute bear, and fill her brimming coffers more and more. But she, with youthful lavishness, spends all her wealth in gaudy dress, and decks herself in garments bold, of scarlet, purple, red, and gold. She hideeth not how swift the hours fly, but smiles and sings her happy life along. She only sees above a shining sky. She only hears the breezes voice in song. Her garments trail the woodland through, and gather pearls of early dew, that sparkle till the roguish sun creeps up and steals them every one. But what cares she that jewels should be lost, when all of nature's bounteous wealth is hers? Though princely fortunes may have been their cost, not one regret her calm demeanour stirs. Wholehearted, happy, careless, free, she lives her life out joyously. Nor cares when frost stalks over her way, and turns her auburn locks to grey. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. October by Paul Lawrence Dunbar. Read for LibriVox.org by Darren Greer. Darrengreer.com October is the treasure of the year, and all the months pay bounty to her store. The fields and orchards still their tribute bear, and fill her brimming coffers more and more. But she, with youthful lavishness, spends all her wealth in gaudy dress, and decks herself in garments bold, of scarlet purple red and gold. She heatheth not how swift the hours fly, but smiles and sings her happy life along. She only sees above a shining sky. She only hears the breezes voice in song. Her garments trail the woodland through, and gather pearls of early dew, that sparkle till the rogue's sun creeps up and steals them every one. But what cares she that jewels should be lost, when all of nature's bountiest wealth is hers? Though princely fortunes may have been their cost, not one regret, her calm demeanor stirs, wholehearted, happy, careless, free, she lives her life out joyously. Nor cares when frost stalks over her way, and turns her auburn locks to grey. October by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for Lubervox.org by Airwood. October is the treasure of the year, and all the months pay bounty to her store. The fields and orchards still their tribute bear, and fill her brimming coffers more and more. But she, with youthful lavishness, spends all her wealth in gaudy dress, and decks herself in garments bold of scarlet, purple, red, and gold. She heedeth not how swift the hours fly, but smiles and sings her happy life along. She only sees above a shining sky, she only hears the breezes voice in song. Her garments trail the woodland through, and gather pearls of early dew, that sparkle till the rogue's sun creeps up and steals them every one. But what cares she that jewels should be lost, when all of nature's bountious wealth is hers? Though princely fortunes may have been their cost, not one regret her calm demeanor stirs. Wholehearted, happy, careless, free, she lives her life out joyously, nor cares when frost stalks over her way, and turns her auburn locks to grey. This recording is in the public domain. October by Paul Lawrence Dunbar. Red for Librebox.org by Gemma Blythe. October is the treasure of the year, and all the months they bounty to her store. The veils and orchards still their tribute bear, and fill her brimming coffers more and more. But she, with youthful lavishness, spends all her wealth in gaudy dress, and decks herself in garments bold, of scarlet purple, red and gold. She heeded not how swift the hours fly, but smiles and sings her happy life along. She only sees above a shining sky, she only hears the breezes voice in song. Her garments trail the woodland through, and gather pearls of early dew, that sparkle till the roguish sun greeps up and steals them, every one. But what care is she that jewel should be lost, when all of nature's bounteous wealth is hers, though princely fortunes may have been their cost, not one regret her calm demeanor stirs. Whole-hearted, happy, careless, free, she lives her life out joyously, nor cares when frost dogs are away, and turns her open locks to gray. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. October by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by J.M. Smallhair. October is the treasurer of the year, and all the months pay bounty to her store, the fields and orchards still their tribute-bear, and fill her brimming coffers more and more. But she, with youthful lavishness, spends all her wealth in gaudy dress, and decks herself in garments bold, of scarlet purple, red and gold. She heeded not how swift the hours fly, but smiles and sings her happy life along. She only sees above a shining sky, she only hears the breeze's voice in song. Her garments trail the woodland through, and gather pearls of early dew, that sparkle till the roguish sun creeps up and steals them every one. But what cares she that jewels should be lost, when all of nature's bounteous wealth is hers, though princely fortunes may have been their cost, not one regret her calm demeanor stirs. Hall-hearted, happy, careless, free, she lives her life out joyously, nor cares when frost stalks o'er her way, and turns her auburn locks to grey. End of Poem. This recording is in the public domain. October by Paul Lauren Stunbar. Read for LibriVox.org by Kristen Hughes. October is the treasurer of the year, and all the months pay bounty to her store. The fields and orchards still their tribute bear, and fill her brimming coffers more and more. But she, with youthful lavishness, spends all her wealth in gaudy dress, and decks herself in garments bold, of scarlet, purple, red and gold. She heeded not how swift the hours fly, but smiles and sings her happy life along. She only sees above a shining sky. She only hears the breezes voice in song. Her garments trail the woodland through, and gather pearls of early dew that sparkle till the roguish sun creeps up and steals them every one. But what cares she that jewels should be lost, when all of nature's bounteous wealth is hers? Though princely fortunes may have been their cost, not one regret her calm demeanour stirs. Wholehearted, happy, careless, free, she lives her life out joyously. Nor cares when frost stalks all her way, and turns her arbor locks to gray. End of Poem. This recording is in the public domain. October by Paul Lauren Stunbar. Read for LibriVox.org by Leanne Howlett. October is the treasurer of the year, and all the months pay bounty to her store. The fields and orchards still their tribute bear, and fill her brimming coffers more and more. But she, with youthful lavishness, spends all her wealth in gaudy dress, and decks herself in garments bold, of scarlet purple, red, and gold. She heeded not how swift the hours fly, but smiles and sings her happy life along. She only sees above a shining sky. She only hears the breezes, voice, and song. Her garments trail the woodland through, and gather pearls of early dew that sparkle till the roguish sun creeps up and steals them every one. But what cares she that jewels should be lost, when all of nature's bounteous wealth is hers? Though princely fortunes may have been their cost, not one regret her calm demeanor stirs. Wholehearted, happy, careless, free, she lives her life out joyously, nor cares when frost stalks all her way, and turns her arbor locks to gray. End of Poem. This recording is in the public domain. October is the treasure of the year, and all the months pay bounty to her store. The fields and orchards still their tribute bear, and fill her brimming coffers more and more. But she, with youthful lavishness, spends all her wealth in gaudy dress, and decks herself in garments bold, of scarlet, purple, red, and gold. She heatheth not how swift the hours fly, but smiles and sings her happy life along. She only sees above a shining sky. She only hears the breezes, voice, and song. Her garments trail the woodland through, and gather pearls of early dew, that sparkle till the roguish sun creeps up and steals them, everyone. But what cares she that jewels should be lost, when all of nature's bounteous wealth is hers? Though princely fortunes may have been their cost, not one regret her calm demeanor stirs. Wholehearted, happy, careless, free, she lives her life out joyously, nor cares when frost stalks o'er her way, and turns her auburn locks to gray. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The fields and orchards still their tribute bear, and fill her priming coffers more and more. But she, with youthful lavishness, spends all her wealth in gaudy dress, and decks herself in garments bold, of scarlet, purple, red, and gold. She heatheth not how swift the hours fly, but smiles and sings her happy life along. She only sees above a shining sky, she only hears the breeze's voice in song. Her garments trail the woodland through, and gather pearls of early dew, that sparkle till the roguish sun creeps up and steals them, everyone. But what cares she that jewels should be lost, when all of nature's bounteous wealth is hers? Though princely fortunes may have been their cost, not one regret her calm demeanor stirs. Wholehearted, happy, careless, free, she lives her life out joyously, nor cares when frost stalks o'er her way, and turns her auburn locks to gray. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. October by Paul Lawrence Dunbar. Read for LibriVox.org by Paul Z. October is the treasurer of the year, and all the months pay bounty to her store. The fields and orchards do their triple bear, and fill her brimming coffers more and more. But she, with youthful lavishness, spends all her wealth in gaudy dress, and decks herself in garments bold of scarlet, purple, red, and gold. She heeded not how swift the hours fly, but smiles and sings a happy life along. She only sees above a shining sky. She only hears the breezes voice in song. Her garments trail the woodland through, and gather pearls of early dew that sparkle till the roguish sun creeps up and steals them everyone. But what cares she that Jews should be lost when all of nature's bounteous wealth is hers? Though princely fortunes may have been the cost, not one regret her calm demeanours does. Wholehearted, happy, careless, free, she lives her life out joyously. No cares when frost storms over her way and turns her urban locks to gray. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. October by Paul Lawrence Dunbar. Read for LibriVox.org by Robert Scott. MojoMove411.com October is the treasurer of the year, and all the months pay bounty to her store, the fields and orchards still their tribute bear, and fill her brimming coffers more and more. But she with youthful lavishness spends all her wealth in gaudy dress, and decks herself in garments bold, of scarlet purple, red, and gold. She heatheth not how swift the hours fly, but smiles and sings her happy life along. She only sees above a shining sky. She only hears the breeze's voice in song. Her garments trail the woodland through, and gather pearls of early dew. That sparkle till the roguish sun creeps up and steals them every one. But what cares she that jewels should be lost, when all of nature's bounteous wealth is hers? Though princely fortunes may have been their cost, not one regret her calm demeanor stirs. Wholehearted, happy, careless, free, she lives her life out joyously, nor cares when frost stalks o'er her way, and turns her auburn locks to gray. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. But she with youthful lavishness spends all her wealth in gaudy dress, and decks herself in garments bold, of scarlet purple, red, and gold. She heatheth not how swift the hours fly, but smiles and sings her happy life along. She only sees above a shining sky. She only hears the breeze's voice in song. Her garments trail the woodland through, and gather pearls of early dew. That sparkle till the roguish sun creeps up and steals them every one. But what cares she that jewels should be lost, when all of nature's bounteous wealth is hers? Though princely fortunes may have been their cost, not one regret her calm demeanor stirs. Wholehearted, happy, careless, free, she lives her life out joyously, nor cares when frost stalks o'er her way, and turns her auburn locks to gray. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. The fields and orchards still their tribute bear, and fill her brimming coffers more and more. But she with youthful lavishness spends all her wealth in gaudy dress, and decks herself in garments bold, of scarlet purple, red, and gold. She heatheth not how swift the hours fly, but smiles and sings her happy life along. She only sees above a shining sky. She only hears the breeze's voice and song. Her garments trail the woodland through, and gather pearls of early dew. That sparkle till the roguish sun creeps up and steals them every one. But what cares she that jewels should be lost, when all of nature's bounty is wealth is hers? Though princely fortunes may have been their cost, not one regret her calm demeanor stirs. Wholehearted, happy, careless, free, she lives her life out joyously, nor cares when frost stalks o'er her way, and turns her auburn locks to gray. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. October by Paul Lawrence Dunbar, read for LibriVox.org by Stevie. October is the treasurer of the year, and all the months pay bounty to her store. The fields and orchards still their tribute bear, and fill her brimming coffers more and more. But she, with youthful lavishness, spends all her wealth in gaudy dress, and decks herself in garments bold of scarlet, purple, red, and gold. She heatheth not how swift the hours fly, but smiles and sings her happy life along. She only sees above a shining sky, she only hears the breezes voice in song. Her garments trail the woodland through, and gather pearls of early dew, that sparkle till the roguish sun creeps up and steals them every one. But what cares she that jewels should be lost, when all of nature's bounty is wealth is hers? Though princely fortunes may have been their cost, not one regret her calm demeanour stirs. Wholehearted, happy, careless, free, she lives her life, out joyously, nor cares when frost stalks o'er her way, and turns her auburn locks.