The Shepherd's Calendar

September (excerpt)

Anon the fields are wearing clear
And glad sounds hum in labours ear

When children halloo ‘here they come’
And run to meet the harvest home

Stuck thick with boughs and thronged with boys
Who mingle loud a merry noise

Glad that the harvests end is nigh
And weary labour nearly bye

Where when they meet the stack thronged yard
Cross bunns or pence their shouts reward

Then comes the harvest supper night
Which rustics welcome with delight

When merry game and tiresome tale
And songs increasing with the ale

Their mingled up roar interpose
To crown the harvests happy close

While rural mirth that there abides
Laughs till she almost cracks her sides

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