October. THE HARVEST MOON. IT is the Harvest Moon! On gilded vanes Of Nature have their image in the mind, And pipings of the quail among the sheaves. The brown autumn came. Out of doors, it brought to the fields the prodigality of the golden harvest, to the forest, revelations of light, — and to the sky, the sharp air, the morning mist, the red clouds at evening. Within doors, the sense of seclusion, the stillness of closed and curtained windows, musings by the fireside, books, friends, conversation, and the long, meditative evenings. It was autumn, and incessant KAVANAGH. Piped the quails from shocks and sheaves, And, like living coals, the apples Burned among the withering leaves. PEGASUS IN POUND. Oh! there is something in that voice that reaches The innermost recesses of my spirit. THE DIVINE TRAGEDY. OCTOBER 2. A stout gentleman of perhaps forty-five, round, ruddy, and with a head which, being a little bald on the top, looked not unlike a crow's nest with one egg in it. HYPERION. He had a way of saying things That made one think of courts and kings, THE RHYME OF SIR CHRISTOPHER, Tales of a Wayside Inn answered! New shops, with new names over the doors; new streets, with new forms and faces in them; the whole town seemed to have been taken and occupied by a besieging army of strangers. Bright as ever flows the sea, KAVANAGH. Not the sun that used to be, Not the tides that used to run. CHANGED. His heart was in his work, and the heart Giveth grace unto every Art. THE BUILDING OF THE SHIP. OCTOBER 4. He was glad to do a good deed in secret, and yet so near heaven. I must go forth into the town, HYPERION. Of restless limbs, and quivering breath, The poor in body and estate, The sick and the disconsolate, Must not on man's convenience wait. THE GOLDEN Legend. HIAWATHA Feet that run on willing errands. |