Classic Poem

This is the way we make our hay;
Men cut the grass, then lad and lass,
We take it and shake it, and shake it,
Then into heaps we rake it,
And leave it to the sun to bake it;
And when it is brown we pull it down,
And again we take it and shake it,
And again with our rakes we rake it;
And when we have done, with dance and fun,
Home in our carts we take it.