Go, reaper, Speed and reap, Go take the harvest Of the plough: The wheat is standing Broad and deep, The barley glumes Are golden now.
Labour is hard, But it endures Like love: The land is yours: Go reap the life It gives you now, O sunbrowned master Of the plough!
A speaker urges a reaper to move quickly through the ripe fields. The wheat stands thick and the barley has turned golden, so the moment for cutting and gathering is now. There is a sense of both hurry and reverence: harvest will not wait, but the work is also a kind of partnership with the land.
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