14 Hurrahing in Harvest

SUMMER ends now; now, barbarous in beauty, the
      stooks rise
    Around; up above, what wind-walks! what lovely
      behaviour
    Of silk-sack clouds! has wilder, wilful-wavier
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, éyes, heárt, what looks, what lips yet gave you a
Rapturous love's greeting of realer, of rounder replies?

And the azurous hung hills are his world-wielding
      shoulder
    Majestic—as a stallion stalwart, very-violet-sweet!—
These things, these things were here and but the
      beholder
    Wanting; which two when they once meet,
The heart rears wings bold and bolder
    And hurls for him, O half hurls earth for him off
      under his feet.