dots-menu
×

Home  »  A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895  »  Harvest-Home Song

Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895.

John Davidson 1857–1909

Harvest-Home Song

DavidsnJn

THE FROST will bite us soon;

His tooth is on the leaves:

Beneath the golden moon

We bear the golden sheaves:

We care not for the winter’s spite,

We keep our Harvest-home to-night.

Hurrah for the English yeoman!

Fill full, fill the cup!

Hurrah! he yields to no man!

Drink deep; drink it up!

The pleasure of a king

Is tasteless to the mirth

Of peasants when they bring

The harvest of the earth.

With pipe and tabor hither roam

All ye who love our Harvest-home.

The thresher with his flail,

The shepherd with his crook,

The milkmaid with his pail,

The reaper with his hook—

To-night the dullest blooded clods

Are kings and queens, are demigods.

Hurrah for the English yeoman!

Fill full; fill the cup!

Hurrah! he yields to no man!

Drink deep; drink it up!