Explore "Harvesting" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
/ I. NOON.
/ The tanned and sultry noon climbs high / Up gleaming reaches of the sky; / Below the balmy belts of pines / The cliff-lunged river laps and shines; / Adown the aromatic dell / Sifts the warm harvest's musky smell. / And, oh! above one sees and hears / The brawny-throated harvesters; / Their red brows beaded with the heat, / By twos and threes among the wheat / Flash their hot sickles' slenderness / In loops of shine; and sing, and sing, / Like some mad troop of piping Pan, / Along the hills that swoon or ring / With sounds of Ariel airiness / That haunted freckled Caliban: