Songs of the Soul/Part 1/The Harvest

THE HARVEST

Drawn by joy sublime
I watch each harvest time,
When the sky glows red with ripe sunbeams;
Oh,ne’er before had I found Thy ploughing teams.
The oriole’s painted, glowing breast is shown,
Yet Thy brush, O Painter, ne’er is known.
The north star timely leaps,
And its nocturnal watch unfailing keeps;
The sun and seasons Thy house supervise,
Yet Thou, O Master, seemest not to rise!