THE SHADOW IN HARVEST.
HUSHED is the harvest field that so lately resounded with mirth
For the gathering in of the harvest, and the joy of the fruits of the earth:
Hushed is the song of the reapers, for lo! in the midst of their toil
Another Reaper has entered to gather in his spoil.
A fall from a loaded waggon; a still form lying there,
The bright, gay tune he was whistling, still throbbing on the air.
Alas! for the news they are bearing to the white house under the trees,
Where the wife who will soon be a widow is nursing their babe on her knees.
"Baby," she sings, "My Baby! Daddy will come to us soon:
Daddy will come for the Mhellia, and we'll dance by the light of the moon.
What do you see, my darling, and why that sudden frown?
It is only a shadow, my darling, for the sun is going down,"
