At husking time the tassel fades 
To brown above the yellow blades, 
 Whose rustling sheath enswathes the corn 
 That bursts its chrysalis in scorn 
Longer to lie in prison shades. 

Among the merry lads and maids 
The creaking ox-cart slowly wades 
Twixt stalks and stubble, sacked and torn 
At husking time. 

The prying pilot crow persuades 
The flock to join in thieving raids; 
The sly racoon with craft inborn 
His portion steals; from plenty's horn 
His pouch the saucy chipmunk lades 
At husking time.