THE REAPER S DREAM. 453 



Far flew the music s circling sound; 

 Then floated back, with soft rebound, 

 To join, not niar, the converse round, 

 Sweet notes, that, melting, still increased 

 Such as ne er cheered the bridal feast 

 Of king in the enchanted East. 



Did any great door ope or close, 

 It seemed the birth-time of repose; 

 The faint sound died where it arose; 

 And they who passed from door to door 7 

 Their soft feet on the polished floor 

 Meet their soft shadows, nothing more. 



Then once again the groups were drawn 

 Through corridors, or down the lawn, 

 Which bloomed in beauty like a dawn. 

 Where countless fountains leapt alway., 

 Veiling their silver heights in spray, 

 The choral people held their way. 



There, midst the brightest, brightly shone 

 Dear forms he loved in years agone, 

 The earliest loved the earliest flown, 

 He heard a mother s sainted tongue; 

 A sister s voice, who vanished young-, 

 While one still dearer sweetly sung , 



No further might the scene unfold; 

 The gazer s voice could not withhold; 

 The very rapture made him bold; 

 He cried aloud, with clasped hands, 

 &quot; O, happy fields! O, happy bands! 

 Wlio reap the never-failing lands. 



Oh! master of these broad estates, 



Behold before your very gates 



A worn and waiting laborer waits! 



Let me but toil amid your grain, 



Or be a gleaner on the plain, 



So I may leave these fields of painl 



A gleaner, I will follow far, 

 With never word or look to mar, 

 Behind the Harvest s yellow car; 

 All day my hand shall constant be; 

 And every happy eve shall see 

 The precious burden borne to thee ! &quot; 



At morn some reapers neared the placa, 

 Strong men, whose feet recoiled apace; 

 Then gathering round the upturned faca, 

 They saw the lines of pain and care, 

 Yet read in the expression there 

 The look as of an answered prayer. 



