Show 1 I 1 the corti song heap it igli the farmers wintry hoard heard I 1 heap high the golden corol coral no richer gift has autumn poured from out her ter laviani horn I 1 let lot other lands ex exulting tilting glean tho the apple from tho the pino pine tho tile orange from ita its gloomy green the aclus clus cluster tor from the vine we better love the hardy gift our ru rugged ged vales bestow to chew us when the tile storms shall drift O 0 our u r li harvest ar v e s t fl fields e ld s w with i th sn snow 0 w th through ro u g h v vales a 1 e 3 0 of f g grass ra s s au and d m meads eads of flowers our oar ploughs their furrows made while on the lulls hills the dunand su nand showers of changeful april played we dropped the reed oer hill and plain beneath the sun of may and from our sprouting routing ep grain tho the robber crows away all through the long bright days of juno june its leaves grew green and fair and waved in hot noon noo n its soft and yellow hair and now with autumns autum ne moonlit aveis its harvest time has come wo we pluck away the frosted leaves leaven and bear tho the treasure home there richer than the fabled gift apollo showered of old fair hands the broken grain grai as shall ha 11 sift silt and knead its meal of gold cold let vapid idlers loll 1011 in silk abound their costly board give us the bowl of samp and milk by homespun beauty poured I 1 the wide old kitchen hearth sends up its smoky curls who will not thank the kindly earth and bless our farmer girls I 1 then bhame on all the proud and vain whose folly laugh sto poem the blessing of our hardy grain our wealth of golden corn com I 1 let a mith withhold hold her goodly root let mi dew blight cherye th erye give to the worm the theor orchards charas fruit tho the wheatfield wheat field to the fly but let the good old crop adorn the hills our father strod still let us for his golden corn com send up our thanks to godi god I 1 john Grren leof tr |