Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE HARVEST MOON; SONNET, by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW



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THE HARVEST MOON; SONNET, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: It is the harvest moon! On gilded vanes
Last Line: And pipings of the quail among the sheaves.
Subject(s): Autumn; Moon; Seasons; Fall


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.








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