AUTUMN SUNSET by Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862) (excerpts)The sun sets on some retired meadow, where no house is visible, with all the glory and splendour...
where there are solitary wings gilded by it, or some brook in the midst of the marsh...just beginning to meander, winding slowly round a decaying stump.We walked in so pure and bright a light, gilding the withered grass and leaves,so softly and serenely bright...I had never bathed in such a golden flood, without a ripple or a murmur to it.Every wood and rising ground gleamed like a boundary of Elysium,and the sun on our backs seemed like a gentle herdsman......driving us home at evening.So we saunter toward the Holy Land,one day the sun shall shine more brightly......shall perchance shine into our minds and hearts,and light up our whole lives,a great awakening light,
as warm and serene... and golden....... in autumn.
Photographs 2026
No comments:
Post a Comment