ORIGINAL POETRY.
SONG OF THE REAPERS. By JElza Wilson. The bright and merry days are come, the happiest of the year, When ruthlesslj the waving corn is mowed with scythe and shear, When rising early in the morn with heart so light and gay, To labor in "the scented fields we cheerful speed away. And then at noon though hot and tired how happy still are we, Reclining 'neath the sylvan shade of many a spreading tree, Our canopy the leaves above, our throne a mossy mound, We sport as gay as kings enthroned while smiles and jests go round. But then as we, ah ! happy time, when all our labor done, And far behind the western hills in glory sinks the sun, No care or weariness we feel, but happy in our lot, With rapid steps we homeward trudge towards our lonely cot. Refreshed, contented with our rest, again at early dawn, May we be seen with cheerful face among the yellow corn ; Oh! yes, the bright and happy time, the merriesiof the year, Is when within the waving fields the reaper's song you hear. Invercargill, 26th June. . ♦
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Southland Times, Volume VII, Issue 6, 6 July 1866, Page 3
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189ORIGINAL POETRY. Southland Times, Volume VII, Issue 6, 6 July 1866, Page 3
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