| lyric | When the rosy morn appearing
paints with gold the verdant lawn,
bees on banks of thime disporting,
sip the sweets and hail the morn.
Warbling birds the day proclaiming,
carol sweet scatter’d ears that fall;
Nature all her leafy dwelling
To procure the golden grain.
See content the humble gleaners
Take the scatter’d ears that fall:
Nature all her children viewing
kindly bounteous cares for all. |