A black-walled barn, with roof of sombre red;
Within, a dusty, sunlit granary-floor;
On either side a widely opened door
Let in broad sunlight on the thresher's head,
And showed the cattle 'neath a neighb'ring shed.
Beyond the sunshine, piled in golden store,
Lay the clean grain; while ever more and more
The empty straw, and the bright heap it made,
O'ertopped the well-stacked sheaves of heavy wheat
That in the sunlight close beside our feet
Lay ready to the thresher's busy hand,
Who in the midst with wilful-falling flail
Beat a slow music they could understand
To lazy barn-fowls seated on the rail.
