Saturday, October 7, 2017

on curtained window panes

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.

The Harvest Moon
  by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 

1 comment:

  1. Lovely! Perfect timing. Did you manage to see the harvest moon on Thursday? We did, and it was superb!

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