A Song of Harvest

A song to be sung by a select few,
Those who love their labor true,
Those who toil with love in their hearts,
Who work the fields 'til day departs,
Alone from those who idle the day away,
Who wander from the pack and go astray,
The lonely ones with no song to sing,
Who go to the table with nothing to bring,
Who think that labor is a big misfortune,
Living a life of leisure, a life undone.

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