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Excerpt from book:
THE SWALLOWS ' IJtiE hills of Camden mile on mile Fling their green mantle o'er the bay; The dark waves dance about the isle Where we have nested many a day. The shadows mount; the air is chill; Away! The hermit thrush has left ...
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NOOK Book (eBook - Digitized from 1919 volume)
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Overview

Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free.
This is an OCR edition with typos.
Excerpt from book:
THE SWALLOWS ' IJtiE hills of Camden mile on mile Fling their green mantle o'er the bay; The dark waves dance about the isle Where we have nested many a day. The shadows mount; the air is chill; Away! The hermit thrush has left the bed Where late his giddy music shone, The sumac in the swamp is red, And Autumn binds her sandals on. The season wanes; summer's at end. Away! OCTOBER as the dew it kindles on the spray Across the shadows of each shelving lawn, The rising sun, with low and level ray Scatters the cold, gray phantoms of the dawn. Like ghosts they flee, like dreams expire Within the elemental fire Of our first calm October day. A day all zenith; the enclosing air, Like to the lens of a vast telescope, Shows the enameled globe, which now doth wear Its gayest motley; every jutting slope And quiet spire appears both far and near, Seen through the splendor of the atmosphere. Something Elysian,—a faint tang of joy,— Breathes from the moisture of the open field, Recalling Spring, yet Spring with no alloy Of heartache, such as hovers on the view Of things in promise. Here is harvest-yield; Old Earth hath done her best and can no further do. The yellowing pages of Earth's ledger lie, In new-cropped acres, open to the sky; A text that all may understand, With margins where wild vines expand In crimson revelry. Beyond the valley lies a ledge Of rocky pasture and a tier Of hemlock and of juniper; And close to the embattled edge,— Their roots embedded in the stony stairs,— The aged cedars flaunt their burning wares. Like banners in a gallery, They hang above the bright ravine, Where from the mountains to the sea The farms and villages are seen, All clad in twinkling sheen. Above our heads the mounta...
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Product Details

  • BN ID: 2940024778852
  • Publisher: New York : C. Scribner''s sons
  • Sold by: Barnes & Noble
  • Format: eBook
  • Edition description: Digitized from 1919 volume
  • File size: 52 KB

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THE SWALLOWS ' IJtiE hills of Camden mile on mile Fling their green mantle o'er the bay; The dark waves dance about the isle Where we have nested many a day. The shadows mount; the air is chill; Away! The hermit thrush has left the bed Where late his giddy music shone, The sumac in the swamp is red, And Autumn binds her sandals on. The season wanes; summer's at end. Away! OCTOBER as the dew it kindles on the spray Across the shadows of each shelving lawn, The rising sun, with low and level ray Scatters the cold, gray phantoms of the dawn. Like ghosts they flee, like dreams expire Within the elemental fire Of our first calm October day. A day all zenith; the enclosing air, Like to the lens of a vast telescope, Shows the enameled globe, which now doth wear Its gayest motley; every jutting slope And quiet spire appears both far and near, Seen through the splendor of the atmosphere. Something Elysian,—a faint tang of joy,— Breathes from the moisture of the open field, Recalling Spring, yet Spring with no alloy Of heartache, such as hovers on the view Of things in promise. Here is harvest-yield; Old Earth hath done her best and can no further do. The yellowing pages of Earth's ledger lie, In new-cropped acres, open to the sky; A text that all may understand, With margins where wild vines expand In crimson revelry. Beyond the valley lies a ledge Of rocky pasture and a tier Of hemlock and of juniper; And close to the embattled edge,— Their roots embedded in the stony stairs,— The aged cedars flaunt their burning wares. Like banners in a gallery, They hang above the bright ravine, Where from the mountains to the sea The farms and villages are seen, All clad in twinklingsheen. Above our heads the mounta...
Read More Show Less

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