The reaper's revenge

Oft and oft I dream, astore,

With secret sighs and laughter,

How once you reaped the field before,

And I came gathering after.

While tenderly, tenderly with the corn

Looks of love you threw me;

Till I stood up with eyes of scorn

And withered your hope to woo me.

Oft and oft I'm dreaming still,

With smiles and tears together,

Of how I stretched my weak and ill,

Through all the wintry weather;

While tenderly, tenderly still you'd tap,

Seeking news of Norah;

Till I grew fonder of your rap

Than father's voice, anora!

Must I mind the plan conceal'd

That through the spring around you,

To wait to find me in the field,

Where rashly I refused you;

Then earnestly, earnestly in my eyes

Gaze till I return'd you

The look of looks and sigh of sighs

On the spot where once I spurn'd you.