There is a reaper whose name is Death
And with his sickle keen
He reaps the breaded grain at a breath
And the flowers that grow between
There is a reaper whose name is Death
And with his sickle keen
He reaps the breaded grain at a breath
And the flowers that grow between
Shall I have naught that is fair?, saith he
Have naught but the breaded grain?
Thought the breath of these flowers is sweet to me
I will give them all back again
He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes
He kissed their drooping leaves
It was for the Lord of paradise
He bound them in his sheaves
My Lord has need of these flowerets gay
The Reaper said and smiled
Dear tokens of the earth are they
Where he was once a child
They shall all bloom in fields of light
Transplanted by my care
And saints upon their garments white
These sacred blossoms wear
And the mother gave in tears and pain
The flowers she most did love
She knew she would find them all again
In the fields of light above
Oh not in cruelty, not in wrath
The reaper came that day
'Twas an angel visited the green earth
And took the flowers away
'Twas an angel visited the green earth
And took the flowers away