Classic Poem

The glad harvest greets us; brave toiler for bread,
Good cheer! the prospect is brighter ahead;
Like magic, the plentiful sunshine and rain
Have ripened our millions of acres of grain;
And the poorest, the wolf may keep from his door —
There'll be bread and to spare another year more.
So sing merrily, merrily,
As we gather it in;
We will store it away gladly
In garner and bin.

We hailed with delight, yet tempered with fear,
The corn as it grew from the blade to the ear;
Lest haply, though large is the surplus in store,
That bread might be dearer for twelve months or more.
But the sunshine and rain, how they ripened the grain
That waited the sickle over hillside and plain!
So sing merrily, merrily,
As we gather it in;
We will store it away gladly
In garner and bin.

Oh, ne'er let us question the Wisdom which guides
Our feet in green pastures, and for us provides;
Who now, as aforetime, His glory displays,
In the bounty that crowns our autumnal days;
Let the glad tidings echo the continent o'er
There'll be bread and to spare another year more!
So sing merrily, merrily,
As we gather it in;
We will store it away gladly
In garner and bin.