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Show October. (Theresa Virginia Beard in the Bellman.) O dav of smoke and flame, O ancient festal Day! Upon the altars of tho earth Tho heavenly fires play. All passion, all desire. Fuse into ono consummate hour Of quiet ecstasy. Before those veiled hills. The lake adoring lies; And shadowed in the quiet lake A migrant legion flies. The meadow grass is mown. In withered sheaves the grain; And where the corn Btood tall and sweet, The stubble gleams again. Again the hidden rites, The olrl mysterious haze; Again tho leafy miracle, The sacrificial blaze. Up from the sacred fires A fragrant mist distills, As incense round a temple dome, It floats about the hills. Tho plowman drives his blade In furrows deep and long; "Flowers to tho earth, earth to the sun," The plow's primeval song. My soul, an upturned field The autumnal sun hath blessed, Drinks of the ancient promises And gives herself to rest. O day of smoke and flame, O Kacrificinl Kay! Upon tho altars of the earth The heavenly fires play; All passion, all desire, Fulfillment , iirr'Phc'y Fuse Into one consummate hour Of quiet ecstasy. |