The Rapture Of The Year
While skies glint bright with bluest light Through clouds that race o'er fields and town,
And leaves go dancing left and right,
And orchard apples tumble down;
While school-girls sweet, in lane or street,
Lean 'gainst the wind and feel and hear Its glad heart like a lover's beat,— So reigns the rapture of the year.
The ho! and hey! and whop-hooray!
Though winter clouds be looming,
Remember a November day Is merrier than mildest May With all her blossoms blooming.
While birds in scattered flight are blown Aloft and lost in dusky mist,
And truant boys scud home alone 'Neath skies of gold and amethyst;
While twilight falls, and Echo calls Across the haunted atmosphere,
With low, sweet laughs at intervals,— So reigns the rapture of the year.
The ho! and hey! and whop-hooray!
Though winter clouds be looming,
Remember a November day Is merrier than mildest May With all her blossoms blooming.
James Whitcomb Riley
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