from The Twelve Months
September
The harvest-moon stands on the sea,
Her golden rim's adrip;
She lights the sheaves on many a lea,
The sails on many a ship;
Glitter, sweet Queen! upon the spray,
And glimmer on the heather;
Right fair thy ray to gild the way
Where lovers walk together.
The red wheat rustles, and the vines
Are purple to the foot;
And true-love, waiting patient, wins
Its blessed time of fruit:
Lamp of all lovers, Lady-moon!
Light these ripe lips together
Which reap alone a harvest sown
Long ere September weather.
~~
Edwin Arnold (1832-1904)
from Poems: National and non-oriental, 1906
[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]
Archie 2909, Full Moon, August 2021. CC BY-SA 4.0, Wikimedia Commons.
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