35 The look of one who, merging not Pass with me down the path that winds 40 You mark a cellar, vine-o'errun, 45 50 Above whose wall of loosened stones And the black nightshade's berries shine, Here, in the dim colonial time Of sterner lives and gloomier faith, Who wrought her neighbors foul annoy, Sit with me while the westering day 55 That round the upper headland falls Below Deer Island's pines, or sees Behind it Hawkswood's belt of trees 60 Rise black against the sinking sun, The valley's legend shall be told. 65 PART II. THE HUSKING. 1r was the pleasant harvest-time, And the old swallow-haunted barns, And winds blow freshly in, to shake 70 Are filled with summer's ripened stores, Its odorous grass and barley sheaves, From their low scaffolds to their eaves. 75 Во On Esek Harden's oaken floor, With many an autumn threshing worn, And thither came young men and maids, They took their places; some by chance, Or sweet smile guided to their choice. How pleasantly the rising moon, Between the shadow of the mows, Looked on them through the great elm-boughs |