Volume 1 — SONG AUTUMN
Reading edition
When nuts behind the hazel-leaf Are brown as the squirrel that hunts them free, And the fields are rich with the sun-burnt sheaf, ’Mid the blue cornflower and the yellowing tree; And the farmer glows and beams in his glee;
O then is the season to wed thee a bride! Ere the garners are filled and the ale-cups foam; For a smiling hostess is the pride And flower of every Harvest Home.