Part 1 — EQUINOCTIAL
Reading edition
The sun of life has crossed the line; The summer-shine of lengthened light Faded and failed, till, where I stand, 'Tis equal day and equal night.
One after one, as dwindling hours, Youth's glowing hopes have dropped away, And soon may barely leave the gleam That coldly scores a winter's day.
I am not young; I am not old; The flush of morn, the sunset calm, Paling and deepening, each to each, Meet midway with a solemn charm.
One side I see the summer fields, Not yet disrobed of all their green; While westerly, along the hills, Flame the first tints of frosty sheen.
Ah, middle-point, where cloud and storm Make battle-ground of this my life! Where, even-matched, the night and day Wage round me their September strife!
I bow me to the threatening gale: I know when that is overpast, Among the peaceful harvest days, An Indian Summer comes at last!
Adeline D. T. Whitney [1824-1906]