quot Lift up your eyes and look on the fields for they are white already to harvest quot Vol No Scotch Thistles T stood among the thistles yesterday And set myself the task to root them out Why leave the useful land that such as they Might scatter nought but mischief all about Their downy seeds set free will soar on high And sail away in glee to other land And there the dreadful pests will multiply A hundred fold or more on every hand But when I went to