The Harvest
When the harvest moon comes rolling round, And the fields all gleam with the golden crown, The laughter rolls with the grain and sun, ‘Tis the tangle of life, where we all are one.
The boughs sag down with their abundant care, While the brook hums sweetly through summer air. We gather close, as friends and kin, In the embrace of Nature’s sweetest sin!
- Rudyard Kipling