And tempting to the eye of one who bears
The sweat of labor on his swarthy brow.
Now, from its yellow shuck, the ripened corn,
In well-filled ears, is drawn—a pleasant sight;
And while the village maidens pass along,
Stopping, where’er their fancy wills, to husk,
Red ears are placed within their anxious palms,
By roguish ones, who hid them for this hour;
And as they draw the crimson emblems forth,
Full many a kiss is printed on the cheek