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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SOMEBODY'S DARLING by MARIE LA CONTE THE CENTAURS by JAMES STEPHENS AGE IN YOUTH by TRUMBULL STICKNEY TIPPERARY: 3. AS THE INTERLINEARS MIGHT TAKE IT FROM XENOPHON by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE MAIDS OF ELFIN-MERE by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 42. AL-JAMIL by EDWIN ARNOLD PSALM 84: THE SPARROW by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE WANDERER: PROLOGUE. PART 2 by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |