The Rapture Of The Year

By James Whitcomb Riley

While skies glint bright with bluest light

Through clouds that race o'er fields and town,

And leaves go dancing left and right,

And orchard apples tumble down;

While school-girls sweet, in lane or street,

Lean 'gainst the wind and feel and hear

Its glad heart like a lover's beat,—

So reigns the rapture of the year.

The ho! and hey! and whop-hooray!

Though winter clouds be looming,

Remember a November day

Is merrier than mildest May

With all her blossoms blooming.

While birds in scattered flight are blown

Aloft and lost in dusky mist,

And truant boys scud home alone

'Neath skies of gold and amethyst;

While twilight falls, and Echo calls

Across the haunted atmosphere,

With low, sweet laughs at intervals,—

So reigns the rapture of the year.

The ho! and hey! and whop-hooray!

Though winter clouds be looming,

Remember a November day

Is merrier than mildest May

With all her blossoms blooming.