The
Harvest
Oh, I saw her at
the time of the sowing of the grain
The April sun had
broken through a filmy mist of rain,
and a little wind
and sweet
Swayed the grasses
at her feet
As I turned to look
and turned to smile
and turned to look
again
And I said "How
good a thing is the promise of the spring!"
At the time of the
sowing of the grain.
Oh, I kissed
her at the time of the growing of the grain
Her laugh was like
a melody that threads the lark's refrain;
Buds and blossoms
everywhere
Sent their perfume
through the air.
And the branches
bent above her where
the ripening fruit
was lain;
And I said "Lo,
love hath grown
Like the seed thy
hand has sown!"
At the time of the
growing of the grain.
Oh, I won her at
the time of the mowing of the grain
We guided over the
empty fields the heavy laden wain,
And my wife was
like to sing
With the joy of
the harvesting!
Oh, love's sowing,
nor his growing,
nor his mowing was
in vain
And I said "Give
thanks, my heart,
For the store that
is thy part!"
At the time of the
mowing of the grain.
