SEPTEMBER.
Now had the season returned when . . . .
Birds of passage sailed through the leaden air, from the ice-bound,
Desolate northern bays, to the shores of tropical islands.
Harvests were gathered in; and wild with the winds of September
Wrestled the trees of the forest, as Jacob of old with the angel . . . . .
Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape
Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.
Peace seemed to reign upon earth, and the restless heart of the ocean
Was for a moment consoled.
All sounds were in harmony blended.
Longfellow.