The Jeffersonian Democrat

FARMERS' NOONDAY HYMN.
BY WM. H. BURLEIGH.

Noon is over earth--the flowers,
Drooping, wait reviving showers;
And the flocks to shun the heat,
Seek the forest's cool retreat,
While the sun with burning eye,
Glares out from a cloudless sky,
And beneath his torrid rays
All the landscape seems ablaze.

From the meadow newly shorn,
Summoned by the blatant horn,
Lo! the weary reapers haste
To their bounteous repast,
Simple but delicious fare,
Spread by loving hands with care,
Healthful meats, with odorous steam:
Fruits and curds, with golden cream;
Water, clear as that which first
From the founts of Eden burst,
Ere along their margin green
Had the serpent's trail been seen;
Such the banquet that invites
Unperverted appetites!

Gathered round our ample board,
Let us thank the loving Lord,
And to him our prayers uplift,
Giver of each perfect gift,
Who doth all our needs supply,
Pouring bounties from the sky.

Lo! the wide-extended plain,
Sentineled with sheaves of grain!
Lo! the hillsides, where the maize
Glimmers in the noontide blaze!
Lo! the orchards, through whose green
Red and luscious fruits are seen!
Lo! the vines whose clustered stores
Wait for Autumn's suns and showers!
Prophecies by nature given--
Pledges of the truth of Heaven,
That successive seasons still
Shall his promises fulfill,
And reward, with golden sheaves,
Faith that labors and believes!