She stood breast high amid the corn, Clasped by the golden light of morn, Like the sweetheart of the sun, Who many a glowing kiss had won.
On her cheek an autumn flush, Deeply ripened;--such a blush In the midst of brown was born, Like red poppies grown with corn.
Round her eyes her tresses fell, Which were blackest none could tell, But long lashes veiled a light, That had else been all too bright.
And her hat, with shady brim, Made her tressy forehead dim;-- Thus she stood amid the stocks, Praising God with sweetest looks:--
Sure, I said, heav'n did not mean, Where I reap thou shouldst but glean, Lay thy sheaf adown and come, Share my harvest and my home.
Teach me, my God and King, In all things Thee to see, And what I do in anything, To do it as for Thee.
All may of Thee partake: Nothing can be so mean Which with this tincture, for Thy sake, Will not grow bright and clean.
A servant with this clause Makes drudgery divine; Who sweeps a room as for Thy laws, Makes that and the action fine.
This is the famous stone That turneth all to gold; For that which God doth touch and own Cannot for less be told.
Morning, evening, noon, and night, "Praise God!" sang Theocrite.
Then to his poor trade he turned, Whereby the daily meal was earned.
Hard he labored, long and well; O'er his work the boy's curls fell.
But ever, at each period, He stopped and sang, "Praise God!"
Then back again his curls he threw, And cheerful turned to work anew.
Said Blaise, the listening monk, "Well done; I doubt not thou art heard, my son:
"As well as if thy voice to-day Were praising God, the Pope's great way.
"This Easter Day, the Pope at Rome Praises God from Peter's dome."
Said Theocrite, "Would God that I Might praise Him that great way, and die!"
Night passed, day shone, And Theocrite was gone.
With God a day endures alway, A thousand years are but a day.
God said in heaven, "Nor day nor night Now brings the voice of my delight."
Then Gabriel, like a rainbow's birth, Spread his wings and sank to earth;
Entered, in flesh, the empty cell, Lived there, and played the craftsman well;
And morning, evening, noon, and night, Praised God in place of Theocrite.
And from a boy, to youth he grew: The man put off the stripling's hue: