Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, HARVEST-HOME SONG, by JOHN DAVIDSON


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

HARVEST-HOME SONG, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: The frost will bite us soon
Last Line: Drink deep; drink it up!
Subject(s): Drinks & Drinking; Harvest; Wine


THE frost will bite us soon;
His tooth is on the leaves:
Beneath the golden moon
We bear the golden sheaves:
We care not for the winter's spite,
We keep our Harvest-home to-night.
Hurrah for the English yeoman!
Fill full, fill the cup!
Hurrah! he yields to no man!
Drink deep; drink it up!

The pleasure of a king
Is tasteless to the mirth
Of peasants when they bring
The harvest of the earth.
With pipe and tabor hither roam
All ye who love our Harvest-home.
The thresher with his flail,
The shepherd with his crook,
The milkmaid with her pail,
The reaper with his hook --
To-night the dullest blooded clods
Are kings and queens, are demigods.
Hurrah for the English yeoman!
Fill full; fill the cup!
Hurrah! he yields to no man!
Drink deep; drink it up!





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