Hurrahing in Harvest

Summer ends now; now, barbarous in beauty, the stooks

Around; up above, what wind-walks! what lovely

Of silk-sack clouds! has wilder,

Meal-drift moulded ever and melted across skies?

I walk,

I lift up,

I lift up heart, eyes,

Down all that glory in the heavens to glean our Saviour;

And eyes, heart, what looks, what lips yet give you a Rapturous love’s greeting of realer, of rounder replies?

And the azurous hung hills are his world-wielding

Majestic - as a stallion stalwart, very-violet-sweet! -These things, these things were here and but the

Wanting; which two when they once meet,

The heart rears wings bold and

And hurls for him,

O half hurls earth for him off under his feet.