'Tis bright,
'Tis clear,
'Tis cold today.
Dame Winter's near,
Jack Frost's at play.
The leaves are brown,
The earth is drear,
The sky is grey,
November's here.

The grains,
The fruits,
The crops of hay,
Are gathered in,
And stored away.
The shelves are full,
In rows appear
The shining jars;
November's here.

We're snug,
We're warm,
We're home today.
Old winter's cold
Seems far away.
The fire burns on,
It brings us cheer;
We're popping corn,
November's here.

With songs,
With praise,
With prayers to say,
We'll give our thanks,
Without delay.
For God has blessed
Those we hold dear.
Let's thank Him now,
November's here.