Joyous, the impatient husbandman perceives
Relenting Nature, and his lusty steers
Drives from their stalls, to where the well-used plow
Lies, in the furrow, loosened from the frost.
There, unrefusing, to the harnessed yoke
They lend their shoulder, and begin their toil,
Cheered by the simple song and soaring lark.
While through the neighboring fields the sower
stalks,
With measured step, and liberal throws the grain
Into the faithful bosom of the ground,
The harrow follows harsh, and shuts the scene.
Be gracious, Heaven! for now laborious man
Has done his part. Ye fostering breezes, blow
Ye softening dews, ye tender showers descend
And temper all, thou world-reviving sun,
Into the perfect year!