With the rich carpets of the rye,
The buckwheat’s snowy mantles, there,
Shed honied fragrance on the air;
In long straight ranks, the maize uprears
Its silken plumes and pennon’d spears,
The yellow melon, underneath,
Plump, ripening, in its viny wreath:
Here, the thick rows of new-mown grass,
There, the potato-plant’s green mass;
All framed by woods—each limit shown