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Poem by John Lapraik


Harvest


GRAVE Autumn comes, with smiling face,
	And plenty in her lap,
To crown the blessings of the year,
	And make each heart to leap.

With joy we view the bearded grain
	Wave yellow oer the land;
And fields of barley, oats, and pease,
	Invite the Reapers hand.

The rustic Hinds and smirking Maids,
	With sickles sharp and clear,
Walk jocund forth unto the fields,
	When Morning doth appear.

Beside a field of ripned corn,
	They then collected stand,
To settle who brings up the rear,
	And who shall lead the van.

That done, the Lasses kilt their coats,
	The Lads throw theirs aside;
Then each one hies him to his place,
	And oer the furrows stride.

The lusty sheaves they, instant, swell
	With corn of genrous kind;
The busy Master binds them up,
	To raise the shocks behind.

Around him oft he turns his eye,
	And sees them thick remain,
To crown his hopes, dispel his fears,
	And recompence his pain.

And aye he binds the other sheaf,
	And picks the other reed;
And often cries, "Lads, laigh and clean,
	"Fool haste was never speed."

But soon the prospects widely changd
	Oer all the fields and plains;
And where the yellow corn late wavd,
	But stubble, nought remains!

The trees, erewhile with verdure clothd,
	Now naked are and bare;
The witherd leaf falls rustling down,
	And scares the timrous Hare.

The lofty stacks in Barn-yards rise,
	In many a towring cone;
Cold North winds now begin to blow,
	And forest oaks to groan.

No more refreshing showrs descend,
	Or balmy Zephyrs play:
The sun, fled far beyond the line,
	Shoots forth a feeble ray.

While Africs parchd and burning plain
	His utmost fury feels,
Here flakes of snow begin to fall,
	The rivers ice congeals.

But hark! what dismal knell is that,
	Which stuns my startled ear!
My guilty soul alarmed shrinks,
	With terror and with fear!

Behold the wounded Partridge whirrs,
	And strives to get away;
But Ah! she falls! the Sportman flies
	To seize his dying prey!

The luckless Bird, with mournful look,
	The murderer surveys!
With loosend feathers, streaming gore,
	She gapes, and faints, and dies!



John Lapraik

Poem Theme: Autumn

John Lapraik's other poems:
  1. The Devils Answer to the Poets Address
  2. An Empty Pocket Easily Known
  3. Epistle to R****t B***s
  4. When I Upon Thy Bosom Lean
  5. Summer


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • John Newton Harvest ("See! the corn again in ear!")
  • Eva Gore-Booth Harvest ("Though the long seasons seem to separate")
  • Kathleen Raine Harvest ("Day is the heros shield")

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