Daily Archives: February 27, 2016

On Fields Oer Which the Reapers Hand has Passed By Henry David Thoreau

Posted on February 27, 2016 by Author Annette J Dunlea Irish Writer

On fields o’er which the reaper’s hand has pass’d Lit by the harvest moon and autumn sun, My thoughts like stubble floating in the wind And of such fineness as October airs, There after harvest could I glean my life … Continue reading →

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Whats The Railway To Me? By Henry David Thoreau

Posted on February 27, 2016 by Author Annette J Dunlea Irish Writer

What’s the railroad to me? I never go to see Where it ends. It fills a few hollows, And makes banks for the swallows, It sets the sand a-blowing, And the blackberries a-growing.

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