Thomas Gray

Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield:
Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke:
How read more

Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield:
Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke:
How jocund did they drive their team a-field!
How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!

There scatter'd oft the earliest of ye Year
By Hands unseen are showers of Vi'lets found;
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There scatter'd oft the earliest of ye Year
By Hands unseen are showers of Vi'lets found;
The Redbreast loves to build and warble there,
And little Footsteps lightly print the ground.

In climes beyond the solar road.

In climes beyond the solar road.

They hear a voice in every wind,
And snatch a fearful joy.

They hear a voice in every wind,
And snatch a fearful joy.

To warm their little loves the birds complain.

To warm their little loves the birds complain.