They sang, that were the young world's gleaners, br Like birds on a bough, br Reaping the first-fruits of love's sowing; br The reapers now br Are sad, as they to harvest going br Voice love's vow. br So much of thought has made us weary, br We cannot sing br Now only of the heart's sweet meaning br In everything, br As they who in the young world gleaning br Went caroling.