 | Poems of home and country |  |
221
THE REAPERS.
Far o'er the distant mountain ridge
Climbs up the morning ray,
Whose growing light and warmth foretell
The reign of perfect day;
O'er the wide fields the springing grain
Shoots up its verdant threads,
Prophetic of the waving crop,
And the wheat's ripened heads.
Climbs up the morning ray,
Whose growing light and warmth foretell
The reign of perfect day;
O'er the wide fields the springing grain
Shoots up its verdant threads,
Prophetic of the waving crop,
And the wheat's ripened heads.
Joy for the reapers, when they lay
Their gleaming sickles by;
And countless heaps of precious sheaves
In yellow bundles lie.
From field and home, from plain and hill,
Hasting in joyous throngs,
They make the bright and fragrant air
Echo with grateful songs.
Their gleaming sickles by;
And countless heaps of precious sheaves
In yellow bundles lie.
From field and home, from plain and hill,
Hasting in joyous throngs,
They make the bright and fragrant air
Echo with grateful songs.
So shall the seed of truth and grace,
Scattered by loving hands,
Harvests of untold wealth produce
In all the earth's broad lands.
The germ, once dropped in fertile soil,
A wondrous yield shall see,
Divinely sown, divinely fraught
With immortality.
Scattered by loving hands,
Harvests of untold wealth produce
In all the earth's broad lands.
The germ, once dropped in fertile soil,
A wondrous yield shall see,
Divinely sown, divinely fraught
With immortality.
| Poems of home and country | |