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8
Bees, on banks of thyme disporting.
Sip the sweets, and hail the dawn.
Warbling birds, the day proclaiming,
Carol sweet the lively strain;
They forsake their leafy dwelling,
To secure the golden grain.
See, content, the humble gleaner.
Take the scattered ears that fall;
Nature, all her children viewing,
Kindly bounteous, cares for all.
FINIS.
