The Barley

The barley’s gotten ripe and full,
The harvest time is here;
The days are turning cold and dry,
The clouds are fleeing from the sky,
And wintertime grows near

The barley fields are thick with grain
For feed and malt and beer:
The days are growing short and wide,
But harvest has our needs supplied,
As wintertime grows near —

The days are colder, gray and slow –
The last few golden grains will go –
The winter will
Be here

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