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38. Harvest Song

1 Pumpkins are heaped in piles,
Big and round and yel­low;
Apples are stored away,
Rosy-cheeked and mel­low;
Oats and bar­ley fill each bin,
Corn and wheat are ga­thered in,
Fragrance of newmown hay
Through the wide barn pass­es,
Scent of sum­mer grass­es.

2 Squirrels their plans have laid,
For the win­ter wea­ther.
Brown nuts are packed away,
Lying snug to­ge­ther.
Through the sun­ny sum­mer hours
Bees were steal­ing sweets from flowers,
Now they need have no fear,
With their gold­en treasure,
Honey with­out mea­sure.

3 Father of child and bee,
For us ev­er car­ing,
Squirrel and small­est bird
In thy boun­ty shar­ing;
Hear us sing our har­vest song,
Of thy love the whole year long.
Father of child and bee,
We our thanks are bring­ing,
Listen to our sing­ing.

Text Information
First Line: Pumpkins are heaped in piles
Title: Harvest Song
Author: Frances Weld Danielson
Language: English
Publication Date: 1905
Tune Information
Name: [Pumpkins are heaped in piles]
Incipit: 11123 53543 21111
Source: Scotch Air



Media
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