Making it purer, as the breezes waft
Life to the flowers! Then on thy spirit bind
The thought of heaven’s rich love, beneficent and kind!
The hopeful promise of the early spring
Is now fulfilled; the summer’s rosy flower
Transmuted into fruit; and corn-fields bring
The full redundance of their golden store,
To glad the heart of man. His labour o’er,
Well may he lift a deeply thankful voice,
And ere the closing of the year grown hoar,