31.12.2010, 18:58
THE HARVEST MOON.
How peacefully the broad and golden moon
Comes up to gaze upon the reaper's toil !
That they who own the land for many a mile,
May bless her beams, and they who take the boon
Of scatter'd ears ; Oh ! beautiful ! how soon
The dusk is turn'd to silver without soil.
Which makes the fair sheaves fairer than at noon,
And guides the gleaner to his slender spoil ;
So, to our souls, the Lord of love and might
Sends harvest-hours, when daylight disappears ;
When age and sorrow, like a coming night.
Darken our field of work with doubts and fears,
He times the presence of His heavenly light
To rise up softly o'er our silver hairs.
How peacefully the broad and golden moon
Comes up to gaze upon the reaper's toil !
That they who own the land for many a mile,
May bless her beams, and they who take the boon
Of scatter'd ears ; Oh ! beautiful ! how soon
The dusk is turn'd to silver without soil.
Which makes the fair sheaves fairer than at noon,
And guides the gleaner to his slender spoil ;
So, to our souls, the Lord of love and might
Sends harvest-hours, when daylight disappears ;
When age and sorrow, like a coming night.
Darken our field of work with doubts and fears,
He times the presence of His heavenly light
To rise up softly o'er our silver hairs.