Come, ye thankful people, come,
Raise the song of Harvest-home!
All is safely gathered in,
Ere the winter storms begin.
~ Henry Alford
(The Poetical Works of Henry Alford)
Happy Thanksgiving!
safely gathered in
Tag: seasons
berry picking
Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influences of each.
~ Henry David Thoreau
(Journal, August 23, 1853)
early spring
The flowers of late winter and early spring occupy places in our hearts well out of proportion to their size.
~ Gertrude S. Wister
(Women Know Everything!)
keeping this time sacred
Rich meanings of the prophet-Spring adorn,
Unseen, this colourless sky of folded showers,
And folded winds; no blossom in the bowers;
A poet’s face asleep is this grey morn.
Now in the midst of the old world forlorn
A mystic child is set in these still hours.
I keep this time, even before the flowers,
Sacred to all the young and the unborn.
~ Alice Meynell
(In February)
an apple drops
Life can be so long, now and then
lasting all of months on end
broken by tall grass,
deep-flowing rivers
and kisses
that last no longer than an apple takes
to drop
in that fleeting second between summer and fall.
~ Terje Johanssen
(The Magic of Fjords)
woods in spring
No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.
~ Hal Borland
(Sundial of the Seasons)
nameless as it is
The last of Summer is Delight –
Deterred by Retrospect.
‘Tis Ecstasy’s revealed Review –
Enchantment’s Syndicate.
To meet it – nameless as it is –
Without celestial Mail –
Audacious as without a knock
To walk within the Veil.
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1380)
changing ocean tides
Can the child within my heart rise above
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides
Can I handle the seasons of my life
Well, I’ve been afraid of changing
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you get bolder
Even children get older
And I’m getting older too
~ Stevie Nicks
♫ (Landslide) ♫
softest soft
August is the softest soft I know,
This vibrating chord between summer and fall,
This dew of farewell pearling in my hands.
~ Einar Skjæraasen
(Seasons)