Sunday, October 4, 2009

the harvest moon

Be sure to step out and watch the harvest moon rise at sunset. May it float brilliant in a clear sky and its glow turn your hair silver for a moment.

It is the Harvest Moon! On gilded vanes
And roofs of villages, on woodland crests
And their aerial neighborhoods of nests
Deserted, on the curtained window-panes
Of rooms where children sleep, on country lanes
And harvest-fields, its mystic splendor rests!
Gone are the birds that were our summer guests,
With the last sheaves return the laboring wains!
All things are symbols: the external shows
Of Nature have their image in the mind,
As flowers and fruits and falling of the leaves;
The song-birds leave us at the summer's close,
Only the empty nests are left behind,
And pipings of the quail among the sheaves.


~Longfellow
The Harvest Moon
(1878)

1 Comments:

Blogger willow said...

Beautiful, Phil. I had to read this piece out loud.

Thick cloud cover over here in Buckeye country. Maybe it'll blow over by dark.

10/04/2009 5:11 PM  

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