The Haying Song

Now it's the season of
clover and killdeer,

And it's the time when
the does the best

It's when all men are
strong,

And the work days are
long,

And you know when to
rise and you know when to rest.

In the cool of the
evening I perch on the load,

And let the wagon wind
blow through my hair,

Count off the stars
and talk to the moon,

Sing to myself in the
sweet summer air,

Hang on at the corners
and duck from the branches,

And sing to myself in
the sweet summer air.

-an excerpt from the poem by David Mallett, "The Haying Song"