Began, as harvest time drew near,

     The reaping of the corn to fear;

     Afraid they would her nest descry,

     Before her tender brood could fly.

     She charged them therefore every day,

     Before for food she flew away,

     To watch the farmer in her stead,

     And listen well to all he said.

     It chanced one day, she scarce was gone,

     Ere the farmer came and his son.

     The farmer well his field survey'd,

     And sundry observations made;

     At last, "I'll tell you what," said he,

     "This corn is fit to cut, I see;

     But we our neighbor's help must borrow,

     So tell them we begin to-morrow."

     Just after this the lark returned,

     When from her brood this news she learned.

     "Ah! dearest mother," then, said they,

     "Pray, let us all begone to-day."

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