September.
The harvest moon stands on the sea,1
Her golden rim’s adrip ;2
She lights the sheaves on many a lea,3
The sails on many a ship ;4
Glitter, sweet Queen, upon the spray,5
And glimmer on the heather ;6
Right fair thy ray to gild the way7
Where lovers walk together.8
The red wheat rustles, and the vines9
Are purple to the foot,10
And true-love, waiting patient, wins11
Its blessed time of fruit :12
Lamp of all lovers, Lady-moon,13
Light these ripe lips together14
Which reap alone a harvest sown15
Long ere September weather.16