Fear not, love, though all forsake thee,
Though a scornful world may frown,
I will never cease to love thee,
I will ne'er thy name disown.
In thy happier days, remember,
All my heart was pldged to thee;
Now, when fate conspires to crush…
We gather them in, the bright green leaves,
With our scythes and rakes to-day,
And the mow grows big, as the pitcher heaves
His lift in the swelt'ring hay.
Oh, ho! a-field! for the mower's sythe
Has a ring as of destiny,
Sweeping the earth of…
