Classic Poem

Mellow the grapes are,
Purple as gloamings that free.
Yellow the corn in the husk,
And scarlet the haws in the tree.

Wide winged the geese go,
Swift, and crying, and crossing the stars,
Foreseeing the snow.
The hoar-frost lies white on the bars.

This is the royal time —
The partridges out of their covers —
Each morning a rhyme,
And the sun and the hill are as lovers.

The cattle in stall —
The pastures forsaken and lone —
Firelight in the hall,
And the thistle-seeds withered and blown.

The last furrow turned,
With the great moon watching all white.
The oxen can rest now,
For the ponds will be frozen to-night.