<html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="center" class="head">Harvest Moon</h1><div class="stanza"><p class="line"><span class="smallcaps">Over</span> the twilight field,</p><p class="line">Over the glimmering field</p><p class="line">And bleeding furrows, with their sodden yield</p><p class="line">Of sheaves that still did writhe,</p><p class="line">After the scythe;</p><p class="line">The teeming field, and darkly overstrewn</p><p class="line">With all the garnered fullness of that noon --</p><p class="line">Two looked upon each other.</p><p class="line">One was a Woman, men had called their mother:</p><p class="line">And one the Harvest Moon.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">And one the Harvest Moon</p><p class="line">Who stood, who gazed</p><p class="line">On those unquiet gleanings, where they bled;</p><p class="line">Till the lone Woman said:</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">"But we were crazed...</p><p class="line">We should laugh now together, I and you;</p><p class="line">We two.</p><p class="line">You, for your ever dreaming it was worth</p><p class="line">A star's while to look on, and light the earth;</p><p class="line">And I, for ever telling to my mind</p><p class="line">Glory it was and gladness, to give birth</p><p class="line">To human kind.</p><p class="line">I gave the breath, -- and thought it not amiss,</p><p class="line">I gave the breath to men,</p><p class="line">For men to slay again;</p><p class="line">Lording it over anguish, all to give</p><p class="line">My life, that men might live,</p><p class="line">For this.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">"You will be laughing now, remembering</p><p class="line">We called you once Dead World, and barren thing.</p><p class="line">Yes, so we called you then,</p><p class="line">You, far more wise</p><p class="line">Than to give life to men."</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Over the field that there</p><p class="line">Gave back the skies</p><p class="line">A scattered upward stare</p><p class="line">From sightless eyes,</p><p class="line">The furrowed field that lay</p><p class="line">Striving awhile, through many a bleeding dune</p><p class="line">Of throbbing clay, -- but dumb and quiet soon,</p><p class="line">She looked; and went her way,</p><p class="line">The Harvest Moon.</p></div><p class="byline">Josephine Preston Peabody</p></body></html> · Great War