30.12.2010, 15:55
HARVEST-HOME
All day we watch'd the unintermitted fume
Of clouds, but still there was no downward rush
Of rain ; then evening came and brought a flush
Of windy redness, in the place of gloom ;
None but sweet hues and pleasant airs remain'd ;
The dry light gust that swept the dancing sprays,
And a white moon, astir in rosy haze
Above our latest labours ; none complain'd
Of that sharp toil. The sheaves flew fast and thick
From fork to fork, to feed the growing rick ;
Each waved its farewell, as it took the leap ;
Some blest the God of harvest, some their luck ;
The horses' weary feet their threshold struck,
And the hinds supt, and slept a happy sleep.
All day we watch'd the unintermitted fume
Of clouds, but still there was no downward rush
Of rain ; then evening came and brought a flush
Of windy redness, in the place of gloom ;
None but sweet hues and pleasant airs remain'd ;
The dry light gust that swept the dancing sprays,
And a white moon, astir in rosy haze
Above our latest labours ; none complain'd
Of that sharp toil. The sheaves flew fast and thick
From fork to fork, to feed the growing rick ;
Each waved its farewell, as it took the leap ;
Some blest the God of harvest, some their luck ;
The horses' weary feet their threshold struck,
And the hinds supt, and slept a happy sleep.