Harvest home

As rests warm rapture rousd the rustics lay The thread bare ballad from each quavering tongue As ‘peggy bond’ or the ‘sweet month of may’ As how he joyd to hear each ‘good old song’ That on nights pausing ear did echo loud & strong The muse might sing too for he well did know The freaks & plays that harvest home doth end How the last load is crownd wi boughs & how Wi floating ribbons diznd at…