It is the Harvest Moon! On gilded vanes
  And roofs of villages, on woodland crests
  And their aerial neighborhoods of nests
  Deserted, on the curtained window-panes
Of rooms where children sleep, on country lanes
  And harvest-fields, its mystic splendor rests!
  Gone are the birds that were our summer guests,
  With the last sheaves return the laboring wains!
All things are symbols: the external shows
  Of Nature have their image in the mind,
  As flowers and fruits and falling of the leaves;
The song-birds leave us at the summer's close,
  Only the empty nests are left behind,
  And pipings of the quail among the sheaves.

 

Poems by This Author

Evangeline [excerpt] by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Lovely the moonlight was as it glanced and gleamed on the water
A Psalm of Life by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Christmas Bells by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Haunted Houses by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All houses wherein men have lived and died
Hymn to the Night by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I heard the trailing garments of the Night
Introduction to Evangeline: A Tale of Acadie by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,
My Lost Youth by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Often I think of the beautiful town
Paul Revere's Ride by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Listen, my children, and you shall hear
Snow-Flakes by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Out of the bosom of the Air
Song of the Owl by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and Henry Rowe Schoolcraft
The owl
The Children's Hour by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Between the dark and the daylight,
The Cross of Snow by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In the long, sleepless watches of the night
The Day Is Done by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The day is done, and the darkness
The Song of Hiawatha [excerpt] by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All day long roved Hiawatha
The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The tide rises, the tide falls
Today We Make the Poet's Words Our Own by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
To-day we make the poet's words our own
Woods in Winter by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
When winter winds are piercing chill


Further Reading

Poems about Lanes
A lane of Yellow led the eye (1650)
by Emily Dickinson
As I Walked Out One Evening
by W. H. Auden
Carentan O Carentan
by Louis Simpson
Freeway 280
by Lorna Dee Cervantes
Maiden Lane
by Louise Morgan Sill
The Lane
by Edward Thomas
Poems about the Moon
Anyway
by Richard Siken
Conversation Galante
by T.S. Eliot
If the Owl Calls Again
by John Haines
Lunar Paraphrase
by Wallace Stevens
Moonlight
by Sara Teasdale
Night Baseball
by Michael Blumenthal
The Creation of the Moon
by Anonymous
The Moon in Time Lapse
by David Rivard
The Owl and the Pussy-Cat
by Edward Lear
They Lived Enamoured of the Lovely Moon
by Trumbull Stickney
Untitled [and the moon once it stopped was sleeping]
by Erika Meitner
Poems for Thanksgiving
América
by Richard Blanco
Eternity
by William Blake
Fire Dreams
by Carl Sandburg
Grace For a Child
by Robert Herrick
Mass for the Day of St. Thomas Didymus [excerpt]
by Denise Levertov
One day is there of the series
by Emily Dickinson
Signs of the Times
by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Te Deum
by Charles Reznikoff
Thanksgiving
by Edgar Guest
Thanksgiving Day
by Lydia Maria Child
Thanksgiving Letter from Harry
by Carl Dennis
The Culture of Glass
by Thylias Moss
The Pumpkin
by John Greenleaf Whittier
The Thanksgivings
by Harriet Maxwell Converse
The Transparent Man
by Anthony Hecht