When the golden sun he knelt
On the far horizon's brim,
Casting off the cloaks of night,
At my bed I bowed with him,

Said my prayer, and, as he rose,
Rose up too, and went my way,
Fed the beast and cleaned the byre,
Bent my back above the hay.

When at noon full hot he paused,
Then I spread my cloth, and ate
Meat that had its life from him,
Meat and fruit from his estate,

Rose refreshed, and took my scythe,
Toiled until, as dusk drew nigh,
Passing hence, the moon his bride,
Held her glowing monstrance high,

Bade me see him still, then, blessed,
Sent me home with joyful tread,
Where the two dear hands I love
Poured the wine, and broke the bread.