Where to Thor was offered the he-goatâ€™s blood,
In reeking tide.
O, lovely field! and forest fair,
And meads grass-clad;
Her bride-bed Freya every where
The corn-flowers rose in azure band
From earthly cell;
Nought else could I do but stop and stand,
And greet them well.
Welcome on earthâ€™s green breast again,
Ye flowerets dear!
In spring how charming â€™mid the grain
Your heads ye rear.
Like stars â€™midst lightningâ€™s yellow ray
Ye shine red, blue:
O, how your summer aspect gay
Delights my view.
O poet! poet! silence keep,
God help thy case:
Our owner holds us sadly cheap,
And scorns our race.
Each time he sees, he calls us scum,
Or worthless tares;
Hell-weeds that but to vex him come
â€™Midst his corn-ears.