BINDING SHEAVES.

By Jean Ingelow

Hark! a lover binding sheaves

To his maiden sings,

Flutter, flutter go the leaves,

Larks drop their wings.

Little brooks for all their mirth

Are not blythe as he.

“Give me what the love is worth

That I give thee.

“Speech that cannot be forborne

Tells the story through:

I sowed my love in with the corn,

And they both grew.

Count the world full wide of girth,

And hived honey sweet,

But count the love of more worth

Laid at thy feet.

“Money's worth is house and land,

Velvet coat and vest.

Work's worth is bread in hand,

Ay, and sweet rest.

Wilt thou learn what love is worth?

Ah! she sits above,

Sighing,‘ Weigh me not with earth,

Love's worth is love.’”