methinks I should hear with indifference if a trustworthy messenger were to inform me that the sun drowned himself last night
8.29.2006
Thoreau's Journal: 29-Aug-1858
Almost the very sands confess the ripening influence of the August sun, and me thinks, with the slender grasses waving over them, reflect a purple tinge. The empurpled sands. Such is the consequence of all this sunshine absorbed into the pores of plants and of the earth. All sap or blood is wine-colored. The very bare sands, methinks, yield a purple reflection. At last we have not only the purple sea, but the purple land.
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1 comment:
So maybe that's where Woodie Guthrie got it.
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