3.  We better love the hardy gift
     Our rugged vales bestow,
   To cheer us, when the storm shall drift
     Our harvest fields with snow.

4.  Through vales of grass and meads of flowers
     Our plows their furrows made,
   While on the hills the sun and showers
     Of changeful April played.

5.  We dropped the seed o’er hill and plain,
     Beneath the sun of May,
   And frightened from our sprouting grain
     The robber crows away.

6.  All through the long, bright days of June,
     Its leaves grew green and fair,
   And waved in hot midsummer’s noon
     Its soft and yellow hair.

7.  And now, with Autumn’s moonlit eves,
     Its harvest time has come;
   We pluck away the frosted leaves
     And bear the treasure home.

8.  There, richer than the fabled gift
     Apollo showered of old,
   Fair hands the broken grain shall sift,
     And knead its meal of gold.

9.  Let vapid idlers loll in silk,
     Around their costly board;
   Give us the bowl of samp and milk,
     By homespun beauty poured!

10.  Where’er the wide old kitchen hearth
      Sends up its smoky curls,
    Who will not thank the kindly earth
      And bless our farmer girls!

11.  Then shame on all the proud and vain,
      Whose folly laughs to scorn
    The blessing of our hardy grain,
      Our wealth of golden corn!

12.  Let earth withhold her goodly root;
      Let mildew blight the rye,
    Give to the worm the orchard’s fruit,
      The wheat field to the fly: 

13.  But let the good old crop adorn
      The hills our fathers trod;
    Still let us, for his golden corn,
      Send up our thanks to God! 
                                      From Whittier’s “Songs of Labor.”

Definitions.—­1.  Hoard, a large quantify of anything laid up.  Lav’ish. profuse. 4.  Meads, meadows. 9.  Vap’id, spiritless, dull.  Samp, bruised corn cooked by boiling.

Notes.—­8.  According to the ancient fable, Apollo, the god of music, sowed the isle of Delos, his birthplace, with golden flowers, by the music of his lyre.

XVII.  THE VENOMOUS WORM.

John Russell (b. 1793, d. 1863) graduated at Middlebury College, Vt., in 1818.  He was at one time editor of the “Backwoodsman,” published at Grafton, Ill., and later of the “Louisville Advocate.”  He was the author of many tales of western adventure and of numerous essays, sketches, etc.  His language is clear, chaste, and classical; his style concise, vigorous, and sometimes highly ornate.

1.  Who has not heard of the rattlesnake or copperhead?  An unexpected sight of either of these reptiles will make even the lords of creation recoil; but there is a species of worm, found in various parts of this country, which conveys a poison of a nature so deadly that, compared with it, even the venom of the rattlesnake is harmless.  To guard our readers against this foe of human kind is the object of this lesson.