The Night o' the Pumpkin Moon

 The Night o' the Pumpkin Moon
by Holman Day

The crickets are fiddling an overture,
Down by the pasture wall;
And the great drop-scene of starry sheen
Is waiting the prompter's call.
And she who is queen of this mystie
fete
Is the Spirit of Harvest Days;
In her robe of dusk and with scent of
musk
She is footing the furrow's ways.
Here is a tear and sigh sincere for 
the sun-crowned Maid o' the June!
But here is acclaim for the stately 
Dame of the Night o' the Pump-
kin Moon.

Now flowers and follies are feast enough
When summer is fresh and young;
And a rollicking song when days are
long,
Rolls sweet on the eager tongue.
But one must think of the cellar bins
When the pallid sun swings low,
When the rime is crisp and the drear
leaves lisp
Their warnings of coming snow.
Here's to the yield of the bursting field
in lush, fat Autumn's noon!
And here's to the sprite of the mystic
night-the Night o' the Pumpkin
Moon!

The curtain of dusk on the eastern hills
Is rolled and pinned with stars;
And the moon hangs low with a yellow
glow
That is striped by fleecy bars.
For tonight the moon in a merry mask
In his stately place unbends,
And greets his kin with a gracious
grin-
Yes, calls the pumpkin's friends.
And, row on row, they smile below re-
joiced by this brotherly boon-
The emblem brood of plenitude on the 
Night o' the Pumpkin Moon.

The swift year wheels to the bitter days,
And the grip of the frost is on;
But the bounteous bin is safe within-
Heigh-ho, for a summer gone!
But the mows are high and the bins are
broad
And the odorous cellars are deep;
We have bargained our toil with God's
good soil,
And they who have earned may keep.
Fare forth tonight, the stars are bright,
and winter is coming soon;
But 'tis draped in the haze of the hal-
cyon days of the Time o' the Pump-
kin Moon.