The Book of Poetry, tr. by James Legge, , at sacred-texts.com
Ho! ye who aid the ministers,
The last month of our spring is here. p. 442
’Tis yours the new-sown fields to tend,
And manage those in their third year.
How fair each wheat and barley field,
That soon their waving crops shall yield!
In them the bright and glorious God
Will grant to us a plenteous year;
Give orders that, with spud and hoe
Provided well, your men appear.
Anon the stalks that rustling stand
Shall fall before the reaper's hand.