Green Things Growing The Corn-Song Heap high the farmer's wintry hoard! Heap high the golden corn! Let other lands, exulting, glean The apple from the pine, We better love the hardy gift Our rugged vales bestow, To cheer us when the storm shall drift Through vales of grass and meads of flowers, We dropped the seed o'er hill and plain, And frightened from our sprouting grain All through the long, bright days of June And waved in hot midsummer's noon And now with autumn's moonlit eves, Its harvest-time has come, We pluck away the frosted leaves, And bear the treasure home. There richer than the fabled gift Fair hands the broken grain shall sift, And knead its meal of gold. Let vapid idlers loll in silk Around their costly board; Where'er the wide old kitchen hearth Who will not thank the kindly earth, Then shame on all the proud and vain, Let earth withhold her goodly root, Give to the worm the orchard's fruit, Green Things Growing Green Things Growing But let the good old crop adorn Still let us for his golden corn, Send up our thanks to God! JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. Columbia's Emblem Blazon Columbia's emblem The bounteous, golden Corn! Eons ago, of the great sun's glow And the joy of the earth, 'twas born. From Superior's shore to Chili, From the ocean of dawn to the west, And by dew and shower, from its natal hour, Till on slope and plain the gods were fain For the rarest boon to the land they loved Nor star nor breeze o'er the farthest seas In their holiest temples the Incas Offered the heaven-sent Maize Grains wrought of gold, in a silver fold, And its harvest came to the wandering tribes As the gods' own gift and seal, And Montezuma's festal bread Was made of its sacred meal. Narrow their cherished fields; but ours Are broad as the continent's breast, For they strew the plains and crowd the wains Till blithe cheers ring and west winds sing The rose may bloom for England, But the shield of the great Republic, The glory of the West, Shall bear a stalk of the tasseled Corn- The heart of the North may cheer, And jasmine and magnolia The crest of the South adorn; But the wide Republic's emblem Is the bounteous, golden Corn! EDNA DEAN PROCTOR. Green Things Growing Green Things Growing Scythe Song Mowers, weary and brown, and blithe, Sings to the blades of the grass below? Sings the Scythe to the flowers and grass! Hush, ah hush, the Scythes are saying, ANDREW LANG. Time to Go They know the time to go! And hastes to bed. * By courtesy of Longmans, Green & Co. |