“A SONG FOR MERRY
HARVEST
Bring forth the harp, and let us sweep
its fullest, loudest string.
The bee below, the bird above, are
teaching us to sing
A song for merry harvest; and the one
who will not bear
His grateful part partakes a boon he
ill deserves to share.
The grasshopper is pouring forth his
quick and trembling notes;
The laughter of the gleaner’s child,
the heart’s own music Hoats.
Up! up! I say, a roundelay from every
voice that lives
Should welcome merry harvest, and
bless the God that gives.
Is the pudding done?
Hurrah for the pumpkin-pie!”
Eliza Cook