We must not dream of harvests and neglect the toil that produces them.

De fiel's 'll soon be hummin'
Roun' de country high en low;
De harves' is a-comin':
Hoe yo' row!
Hoe yo' row!

No time now fer de sleeper;
It's "Git up now, en go!"
It's de sower makes de reaper;
Hoe yo' row!
Hoe yo' row!

It's sweet de birds is singin'
De songs you lovin' so;
But de harves' bells is ringin';
Hoe yo' row!
Hoe yo' row!

Frank L. Stanton.

From "The Atlanta Constitution."