When Haying is Done

There’s a smile of relief and a spirit of fun

Comes over the farmer when the haying is done;

With all his mows smelling with sweet-scented hay

His smile is as cheery as sunshine in May.

The summer’s half over, and out in the field

He sees the approach of a beautiful yield;

As tall as his hat is the golden-topped corn,

Which waves its long arms in the breeze of the morn.

As fair and as scented as the gardens of old

Are his fields with their stubble as yellow as gold.

With his farm full of hay and his bedding stocked high,

A smile on his face and a gleam in his eye;

The stock is provided with winter repast,

And apples and pumpkins are ripening fast.

There’s a smile of relief and a spirit of fun

Comes over the farmer when the haying is done;

The turnips are growing, the melons are prime,

The harvest approaching, his bounteous time.

Ah! Lucky the farmer who wanders a field

And sees the approach of a beautiful yield!

Aug. 2, ‘09