Come now hearken awhile to the songs of the god Lytierses.
Demeter, granter of fruits, many sheaves vouchsafe to the cornfield,
Aye to be skilfully tilled, and reaped, and the harvest abundant.
Fasten the heaps, ye binders of sheaves, lest any one passing,
Call out, "worthless clowns, you earn no part of your wages."
Let every sheaf that the sickle has cut be turned to the north wind
Or to the west exposed, for so will the corn grow fatter.
Ye who of wheat are threshers, beware how ye slumber at mid-day,
Then is the chaff from the stalk of the wheat, most easily parted.
Reapers, to labour begin, as soon as the lark upriseth,