Happiness of Gleaners


Welcome the cot’s
Warm walls! . . . . thrice welcome Rest, by toil endear’d;
Each hard-bed softening, healing ev’ry care!
—Sleep on, ye gentle souls,
Unapprehensive of the midnight thief5
—Or, if bereft of all, with pain acquired!
Your fall, with theirs compared, who sink from wealth,
With hands unused to toil, and minds unused
To bend—how little felt!—How soon repair’d!


*For the full text of the poem, which dates from 1786, see ‘An Harvest Scene’. BACK


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