Addition to The Thrashing Floor, verse 2, (at p. 18.)
Thwack, thwack, bounds the flail, while the grains about do fly,
And the straws around him float as his swingle wheels on high,
Then descending quick it tells, while his labour gives him joy,
And his bosom beats harmonious with his pleasing employ.
Aye, pleasing sure it is, at having comforts now in view,
And his first fruits inviting him his fortunes to pursue;
Light spirited he plies his toil, in thrashing out his stack,
Which makes his floors resound with merry thwack, thwack, thwack.
And the straws around him float as his swingle wheels on high,
Then descending quick it tells, while his labour gives him joy,
And his bosom beats harmonious with his pleasing employ.
Aye, pleasing sure it is, at having comforts now in view,
And his first fruits inviting him his fortunes to pursue;
Light spirited he plies his toil, in thrashing out his stack,
Which makes his floors resound with merry thwack, thwack, thwack.
