Song Of The Flail

_aMflHlianaBIBBanBiaKiaiB MÍ(l)iflatt Jigra. From Saiper'a Magazine. In tho autumn, whon tho hollows All aro filled with flying loavos, And the colouios of swallows Quit the quaintly stnccoed eavos, And a silver mantle glistous ( )vor all the misty vale, Sits tho little wifc and listens To tho beating of the flail, To the poandiug of the flail By her eradlo sits and listrns To the flapping of tho flail. The bright siimmcr days are over, And her oyes no Ionger soes The rod bloom apon tlie clover, The deop green upon the trees ; tlushed the songs of iinch and robin, With tho whistle of the quail ; But she hears tlie mellow throbbing Of the thunder ot the fiall, The low thunder of the flaü - Throtigh the amber air the throbbing And reverberatmg flail. In the barn the stout yoimg threshcr Stooping stands with rolled-up sleeves. Beating out his golden treaaure From the ripped and rustling sheaves ; Oh, was ever knight in armor - Warrior all in shiniug mail-' Halt so handsomo as lier farmer As he plies the flying flail, As he wields the flashing flail ? - The bare-throated, brown young farmer, As he swings the sounding flail ? All the hopos that saw the sowing, AU the sweet desire of gain, All the joy that watolied the growing And the yellowing of the gram, And the love that went to woo her, And the faith tlat shall not fail- All are speaking softly to her In the pulses of the flail, Of the palpitating flail- Past and Future whisper to her In the music of the flail. In its erib their babe is sleeping. And the sunshine from the door AU the afternoon is creeping Slowly round upon the floor ; And the shadows soon will darken, And the daylight soon must pale When the wife no moro shall harken To the tramping of the flail, To the dancing of the flail - When her heart no more shall harken To the footfall of the flail And the babe shall grow and strengthen, Be a maiden, be a wife, While the moving shadows lengthen Round the dial of their life : Theirs the trust of friend and neighbor, And an age serene and hale, When machines shall do the labor Of the strong arm and the flail, Of the stout heart and the flail - Great machines perform the labor Of the good old fashioned flail. But when blessed among women, And when honored among men, They look round them, can the brimming Of their utmost wishes then Grive them happiness completer? And can ease and wealth avail To make any music swoeter Than the pounding of the flail ? Oh, the sounding of the flail ! Never music can be sweeter Than tho beating of the flail !