Your Hay It Is Mow'd, And Your Corn Is Reap'd by John Dryden (Comus.) Your hay it is mow'd, and your corn is reap'd; Your barns will be full, and your hovels heap'd: Come, my boys, come; Come, my boys, come; And merrily roar out Harvest Home. (Chorus.) Come, my boys, come; Come, my boys, come; And merrily roar out Harvest Home.
15 Aug 2018 10:26

Your Hay It Is Mow'd, And Your Corn Is Reap'd by John Dryden (Comus.) Your hay it is mow'd, and your corn is reap'd; Your barns will be full, and your hovels heap'd: Come, my boys, come; Come, my boys, come; And merrily roar out Harvest Home. (Chorus.) Come, my boys, come; Come, my boys, come; And merrily roar out Harvest Home. 

Your Hay It Is Mow'd, And Your Corn Is Reap'd by John Dryden
(Comus.) Your hay it is mow'd, and your corn is reap'd;
Your barns will be full, and your hovels heap'd:
Come, my boys, come;
Come, my boys, come;
And merrily roar out Harvest Home.
(Chorus.) Come, my boys, come;
Come, my boys, come;
And merrily roar out Harvest Home.

(Man.) We ha' cheated the parson, we'll cheat him agen,
For why should a blockhead ha' one in ten?
One in ten,
One in ten,
For why should a blockhead ha' one in ten?

For prating so long like a book-learn'd sot,
Till pudding and dumplin burn to pot,
Burn to pot,
Burn to pot,
Till pudding and dumplin burn to pot.
(Chorus.)Burn to pot,
Burn to pot,
Till pudding and dumplin burn to pot.
We'll toss off our ale till we canno' stand,
And Hoigh for the honour of Old England:
Old England,
Old England,
And Hoigh for the honour of Old England.
(Chorus.) Old England,
Old England,
And Hoigh for the honour of Old England.

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Troilus And Cressida by John Dryden Can life be a blessing, Or worth the possessing, Can life be a blessing if love were away? Ah no! though our love all night keep us waking, And though he torment us with cares all the day, Yet he sweetens, he sweetens our pains in the taking, There's an hour at the last, there's an hour to repay.  In ev'ry possessing, The ravishing blessing, In ev'ry possessing the fruit of our pain, Poor lovers forget long ages of anguish, Whate'er they have suffer'd and done to obtain; 'Tis a pleasure, a pleasure to sigh and to languish, When we hope, when we hope to be happy again Your Hay It Is Mow'd, And Your Corn Is Reap'd by John Dryden (Comus.) Your hay it is mow'd, and your corn is reap'd; Your barns will be full, and your hovels heap'd: Come, my boys, come; Come, my boys, come; And merrily roar out Harvest Home. (Chorus.) Come, my boys, come; Come, my boys, come; And merrily roar out Harvest Home. Bhagavad Gita: Chapter 5, Verse 6    संन्यासस्तु महाबाहो दु:खमाप्तुमयोगत: | योगयुक्तो मुनिर्ब्रह्म नचिरेणाधिगच्छति || 6||  sannyāsas tu mahā-bāho duḥkham āptum ayogataḥ yoga-yukto munir brahma na chireṇādhigachchhati  sanyāsaḥ—renunciation; tu—but; mahā-bāho—mighty-armed one; duḥkham—distress; āptum—attains; ayogataḥ—without karm-yog; yoga-yuktaḥ—one who is adept in karm-yog; muniḥ—a sage; brahma—Brahman; na chireṇa—quickly; adhigachchhati—goes Translation BG 5.6: Perfect renunciation (karm sanyās) is difficult to attain without performing work in devotion (karm yog), O mighty-armed Arjun, but the sage who is adept in karm yog quickly attains the Supreme.
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