Labor and the Angel

by Duncan Campbell Scott

Of the hermit-thrush and the whippoorwill,

Haunting the wood.

Sing me a song of the gleaming scythe,

Of the scented hay and the buried wain,

Of the mowers whistling bright and blithe,

In the sunny rain.

Sing me a song of the quince and the gage,

Of the apricot by the orchard wall,

Where bends my love Armitage,

Gathering the fruit of the windfall.