Harvest-Home

Come, Roger and Nell; Come, Simkin and Bell; Each lad with his lass hither come, With singing and dancing, In pleasure advancing To celebrate harvest-home. ’Tis Ceres bids play And keep holiday To celebrate harvest-home.

Our labor is o’er, and our barns in full store Now swell with rich gifts of the land. Let each man then take, for the prong and the rake, His can and his lass in his hand. ’Tis Ceres bids play And keep holiday To celebrate harvest-home.

No courtiers can be so happy as we In innocent pastime and mirth,

While thus we carouse with our sweetheart or spouse, And rejoice o’er the fruits of the earth. ’Tis Ceres bids play And keep holiday To celebrate harvest-home.