. Sunshine and roses . ^ p m 0. ) iC Who gives a care for parching heatAnd ceaseless moil for labored feet?The harvest field is laden fairWith its rich yield of grain so rare!It is all waving in the breeze,Rousing and calling from their easeInto the joyous harvesting,Into the toil of and servant, maid and swain,Lout and savant. None refrainFrom the exquisite joy and rareOf gathering in his precious share. m. L^.

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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookidsunshinerose, bookyear1914