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Harvest

Harvest image
Parent Issue
Day
31
Month
July
Year
1874
Copyright
Public Domain
OCR Text

jliirliipii Jlrps. Sweet, sweet, sweet Is the wind'a song, Astir in the. rippled wheat All day long. It hath tho brook's wild gayoty, The sorrowful cry of the sea. Oh, hush and liear .' Sweet, sweet, and cloar, t Abovo the locust'8 whirr, And hum of boe, lii-ios that soft, pathetic harmoa) In the meadow-grass The innocent white daisies bolow ; The dandelion plume doth pass Vaguely to and fro- The imquiet spirit of a fĂ­ower That hath too brief au hour. Xow doth a little cloud all whita Or golden bright Drift down tho warm, blue sky ; And now on the horizon line, Wherc dusky woodlands He, A sunny mist doth shinc, Lik; to a veil before a holy tbriue, Coneetding, Italf-revealiiig Things Divine. Sweet, sweet, sweet, Is the wind's song, Astir in the rijipled wheat All day long. That exquisite music calis The reaper everywhere - Life and death must sharp, The golden harvest falls. So doth all end- Honored Philosophy, Science and Art, The bloom of the heart ; - Master, Consoler, Friend, Make Thou the harvest of our days To fall within Thy ways. - Scribner's for August.

Article

Subjects
Old News
Michigan Argus