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.

 


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