A Full Harvest.

A poem by James Whitcomb Riley

Seems like a feller'd ort 'o jes' to-day
Git down and roll and waller, don't you know,
In that-air stubble, and flop up and crow,
Seein' sich craps! I'll undertake to say
There're no wheat's ever turned out thataway
Afore this season! - Folks is keerless tho',
And too fergitful - 'caze we'd ort 'o show
More thankfulness! - Jes' looky hyonder, hey? -
And watch that little reaper wadin' thue
That last old yaller hunk o' harvest-ground -
Jes' natchur'ly a-slicin' it in-two
Like honey-comb, and gaumin' it around
The field - like it had nothin' else to do
On'y jes' waste it all on me and you!

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