The Yellow Corn

Come, boys, sing!— Sing of the yellow corn, Sing, boys, sing, Sing of the yellow corn! He springeth up from the fallow soil, With the blade so green and tall, And he payeth well the reaper’s toil, When the husks in the autumn fall. The pointed leaves, And the golden ear, The rustling sheaves, In the ripened year— Sing, boys, sing! Sing of the yellow corn, Sing, boys, sing, Sing of the yellow corn. He drinks the rain in the summer long, And he loves the streams that run, And he sends the stalk so stout and strong, To bask in the summer sun. The pointed leaves, And the golden ear, The rustling sheaves, In the ripened year— Sing, boys, sing! Sing of the yellow corn, Sing, boys, sing, Sing of the yellow corn. He loves the dews of the starry night, And the breathing wind that plays With his tassels green, when the mellow light Of the moon on the meadow stays. The pointed leaves, And the golden ear, The rustling sheaves, In the ripened year— Sing, boys, sing! Sing of the yellow corn, Sing, boys, sing, Sing of the yellow corn. A glorious thing is the yellow corn, With the blade so green and tall, A blessed thing is the yellow corn, When the husks in the autumn fall. Then, sing, boys, sing! Sing of the yellow corn, Sing, boys, sing, Sing of the yellow corn! The pointed leaves, And the golden ear, The rustling sheaves, In the ripened year— Come, sing, boys, sing! Sing of the yellow corn, Sing, boys, sing, Sing of the yellow corn.