GA-THER-ING POP-PIES. by Anonymous
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| GA-THER-ING POP-PIES. | |
| Through the corn the chil-dren creep, Where the nod-ding pop-pies sleep, Fill-ing hands and a-prons white With the scar-let blos-soms bright. Gau-dy pop-pies must not stay Till the fu-ture har-vest day: They would wi-ther when the heat Ri-pens all the gold-en wheat-- Life for them is short and sweet. |
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| Anonymous, | |
