Pyramids of red apples, row on row,
And vineyards purpling in late Autumn’s glow,
Till with the olives’ rendering of oil
Winter winds up the victories of toil.
Content the master, with glad welcoming eyes,
As crop to crop succeeds, each a surprise,
Yet taking each its place in order clear,
The grand procession of the fruitful year!
Harmonious whole, made up, hopes and cares,
Mind’s, Body’s work, in not unequal shares;