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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420670" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Corn Song</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">HEAP HIGH the farmer’s wintry hoard!<br>Heap high the golden corn!<br>No richer gift has Autumn poured<br>From out her lavish horn! <br>Let other lands, exulting, glean<br>The apple from the pine,<br>The orange from its glossy green,<br>The cluster from the vine; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">We better love the hardy gift<br>Our rugged vales bestow,<br>To cheer us when the storm shall drift<br>Our harvest-fields with snow. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Through vales of grass and meads of flowers<br>Our ploughs their furrows made,<br>While on the hills the sun and showers<br>Of changeful April played. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">We dropped the seed o’er hill and plain<br>Beneath the sun of May,<br>And frightened from our sprouting grain<br>The robber crows away. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">All through the long, bright days of June<br>Its leaves grew green and fair,<br>And waved in hot midsummer’s noon<br>Its soft and yellow hair. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And now, with autumn’s moonlit eves,<br>Its harvest-time has come,<br>We pluck away the frosted leaves,<br>And bear the treasure home. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There, richer than the fabled gift<br>Apollo showered of old,<br>Fair hands the broken grain shall sift,<br>And knead its meal of gold. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let vapid idlers loll in silk<br>Around their costly board;<br>Give us the bowl of samp and milk,<br>By homespun beauty poured! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where’er the wide old kitchen hearth<br>Sends up its smoky curls,<br>Who will not thank the kindly earth<br>And bless our farmer girls? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then shame on all the proud and vain,<br>Whose folly laughs to scorn<br>The blessing of our hardy grain,<br>Our wealth of golden corn! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let earth withhold her goodly root,<br>Let mildew blight the rye,<br>Give to the worm the orchard’s fruit,<br>The wheat-field to the fly: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But let the good old crop adorn<br>The hills our fathers trod;<br>Still let us, for His golden corn,<br>Send up our thanks to God!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Greenleaf+Whittier">John Greenleaf Whittier</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420670" data-title="The Corn Song de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="HEAP HIGH the farmer’s wintry hoard!
Heap high the golden corn!
No richer gift has Autumn poured
From out her lavish horn! 
Let other lands, exulting, glean
The apple from the pine,
The orange from its glossy green,
The cluster from the vine; 

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