Now hands to seed sheet, boys
We step and we cast. Old Time's on wing
And, would you partake of Harvest joys
The corn must be sown in spring

Fall gentle and still, good corn
Lie warm in your earthy bed
And stand so yellow all in the morn
For beast and man must be fed

Old Earth is a pleasure to see
With sunshiny cloak of red and green
The furrow lies fresh, and this year shall be
As years that are past have been

Old Mother, receive this corn
The son of six thousand golden sires
All these on thy kindly breast were born
One more your poor child requires

Now, steady and sure again
And measure of stroke and step we keep
Thus up and down we cast our grain
Sow well, and you shall gladly reap