A Song of Autumn.
(From Songs and Lyrics by Alexander Bathgate.) Bird 'mid the golden sheaves Taking thy share,© Picking from ripened sheaves Thy evening fare. Sure with no thought of thee Sown was the seed,'' Reaped without thought of thee Or of thy need. Yet from another's toil Thou tak'st the gain, Fed by another s toil His was the pain. But with thy mellow sonj? • Cheered was his heart; Sing then thy happy song, Such is thy part. Who should from weary toil Seek to he free ? Fruit from thy weary toil Thou mayst not see. Naught but thy best aye do, Some one will reap. Strive then thy best to do ; Why shouldstthou weep ?
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A Song of Autumn., Ashburton Guardian, Volume VII, Issue 2525, 23 September 1890
A Song of Autumn. Ashburton Guardian, Volume VII, Issue 2525, 23 September 1890
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