Summer is gone,
Autumn is here;
This is the harvest
For all the year.
Corn in the crib,
Oats in the bin,
Wheat is all threshed,
Barley drawn in.
Apples are barreled,
Nuts laid to dry;
Frost in the garden
Winter is nigh.
Father in heaven,
Thank thee for all,
Winter and springtime,
Summer and fall.
By Lydia Avery Coonley
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