The Gold-Gated West/After Harvest
AFTER HARVEST
From his porch, the Northern farmer Looks across the trampled fields, And his strong heart flushes warmer With the joy his conquest yields.
For his boys have come, a glory On the sheaves their toil has won—Heroes with a brighter story Than the pallid Spartan son.
Peace has drawn her azure curtain 'Round the mountain's pillared might, And the river, slow, uncertain, Loiters in the yellow light.
Ruby tints have touched the apples, Swelling clusters bend the vine; And the waiting angel dapples All the woods with crimson sign.
Falling, falling, softer, sweeter, Fades the mellow harvest song; And the dreamy days are fleeter And the restful nights are long.