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THE HARVEST MOON.
HE Harvest Moon! how silentlyShe glides along the sky,
And seems to look upon this earth
With calm, benignant eye!
Lonely her path, but still there shines
Fresh radiance on her brow,
As if she felt how many a heart
Her light rejoices now.
No star is near thee, lovely Moon;
Yet brighter seems thy power
Than when a thousand round thee shone,
In Summer's warmest hour:
And still that Summer lingering seems,
Although her reign is past,
To pour one parting blessing forth
The brightest and the last!
Yet brighter seems thy power
Than when a thousand round thee shone,
In Summer's warmest hour:
And still that Summer lingering seems,
Although her reign is past,
To pour one parting blessing forth
The brightest and the last!
How still and calm is all around!
No breath upon the air,
No jarring sound, to break the spell
Of moonlight stillness there:
Only the sheepbell's distant sound,
The night-breeze bears along,
Or wafts upon the listening ear
The reaper's homeward song.
No breath upon the air,
No jarring sound, to break the spell
Of moonlight stillness there:
Only the sheepbell's distant sound,
The night-breeze bears along,
Or wafts upon the listening ear
The reaper's homeward song.
