Your feet are rosy-red with the glow of my heart's desire, Gleaner of my sunset songs!

When I am a Sychophant And a base gleaner from an others favour, As all you are that halt upon his crutches, Shame take that smoothness and that sleeke subjection!

How Willy meets the young gleaner in the fieldhow he pities his misfortunes, and assists to fill his bag with corn CHAPTER SECOND.