AUGUST.
155
The red-winged birds drone dreamily
Within their bowers of leaves;
While knee-deep in the sluggish brook
The cattle stand with drowsy look
Beneath the cool, green trees.
Within their bowers of leaves;
While knee-deep in the sluggish brook
The cattle stand with drowsy look
Beneath the cool, green trees.
The reaper's song rises and falls
Along the ripening wold;
The wheat-stacks stand like plumed hussars
In uniforms of gold;
And, far away across the plain,
The teamster drives the loaded wain,
And whistles all so bold.
Along the ripening wold;
The wheat-stacks stand like plumed hussars
In uniforms of gold;
And, far away across the plain,
The teamster drives the loaded wain,
And whistles all so bold.
Twilight descends, a veil of sweets,
Warm with an amber mist;
The sunlight and the moonlight
Have met in love, and kissed;
While, through the soft voluptuous sea
Of golden air, the zephyrs free
Float wheresoe'er they list.
Warm with an amber mist;
The sunlight and the moonlight
Have met in love, and kissed;
While, through the soft voluptuous sea
Of golden air, the zephyrs free
Float wheresoe'er they list.
August! the year's full womanhood!
How fast thy glad hours fly!
Like all things fair and beautiful,
Doomed to grow pale and die!
Month of rare flowers and soft-eyed stars,
Of greening leaves and wind-guitars,
Red moons and purple sky!
How fast thy glad hours fly!
Like all things fair and beautiful,
Doomed to grow pale and die!
Month of rare flowers and soft-eyed stars,
Of greening leaves and wind-guitars,
Red moons and purple sky!
