Harvest Hymn Questions & Answers | Class 8 English | CBSE NCERT

(b) — The men directly praise "O Surya," calling him the lord of the lotus and the harvest.

(c) — 'Munificent' means very generous, which suits the lord whose "bounty prospered our sowing."

(b) — The lines clearly state: "We bring thee our songs and our garlands for tribute, / The gold of our fields and the gold of our fruit."

corn (the rhyme scheme of the stanza is abab, in which 'morn' and 'corn' form one rhyming pair)

Surya, the Sun God, ripens the crops with his warm rays; his softening, maturing light turns the fields golden and makes the fruit mellow and sweet.

They praise him "with cymbal and flute," which suggests that their gratitude is joyful and celebratory, like a festival with music, rather than a solemn ritual.

(b) — The men say, "We praise thee, Varuna," hailing him as "O sender of rain and the dewfall."

(c) — 'The main' is a poetic word for the sea, which suits Varuna, the ancient lord of the waters.

(a) — Rain and dew cherished the 'furrows' (ploughed rows in the field) and 'fostered' (helped grow) their grain.

new-garnered and ripe (that is, freshly gathered and fully ripened)

Because rain and dewfall are essential for their crops. Varuna's mercy watered and nourished their furrows and fostered their grain, making the rich harvest possible.

The newly gathered, ripe harvest of the valleys is called their wealth because it is the source of the farmers' food, prosperity and happiness — their true riches come from the earth, not from gold.

(a) — The women say, "We praise thee, O Prithvi," addressing the Earth as mother.

(a) — The mother imagery shows the Earth nursing and nourishing humankind, and producing all their harvest — their "riches have birth" in her womb.

(b) — The Earth is given human, motherly qualities — a bosom that feeds and a womb that gives birth — which is personification expressed through metaphor.

drum

Because all the varied joys of the villagers — their food, their harvest, their riches and their celebrations — are born of the Earth's generous giving. Every kind of happiness flows from her.

The men offer songs, thanks and the gold of their fields, while the women offer love along with garlands, hailing the Earth as a dear mother. Their tone is more tender and intimate, treating the Earth not as a mighty lord but as a nurturing parent, though it is equally reverent and celebratory.

(d) — In the final stanza all the voices together praise "O Bramha," the eternal creator.

(b) — 'Ineffable' means too great to be expressed in words, befitting the supreme Lord of the Universe.

(c) — The whole community says, "We bring thee our lives and our labours for tribute," offering not produce but themselves.

True — the Seed stands for the beginning of life and the Scythe for its harvest, so the two together represent the whole cycle of sowing and reaping.

The capitals show that these everyday words are being used for the divine — God is present in our work (Hands), our feelings (Heart) and our shelter and family (Home). It gives the words a sacred, capitalised importance.

They pray, "Grant us thy succour, thy counsel, thy care" — asking for help, guidance and protection. It shows that the villagers see the divine not only as the giver of harvests but as the supporter of their whole lives.

The poem is by Sarojini Naidu. It is a hymn — a song of praise — in which villagers thank the divine powers of nature for a successful harvest.

Surya is the Sun God. The men hail him because his bounty "prospered our sowing" and "nurtured our corn" — the sun's radiance ripens their crops, so they call him the giver of mellowing radiance.

The lotus blooms when the sun rises, and in Indian tradition the lotus is closely linked with the sun's light and life-giving energy; hence Surya is addressed as the lord of the lotus.

It refers to the sun's warm, ripening light that softens and matures the fruit and grain, turning the crops golden and ready for harvest.

Surya is praised "with cymbal and flute," showing the festive, joyful manner of the offering.

It means that the success of the crops — from sowing to harvest — is credited to the god's generous gift; the people recognise that nature's powers, not human effort alone, brought the harvest.

'Beneficent' means kind and doing good — the people call Varuna "great and beneficent" because his rain does good to their fields.

'Furrows' are the long grooves cut in the soil by a plough, in which seeds are sown. 'Garnered' means gathered in and stored, as in "new-garnered and ripe" describing the freshly collected harvest.

Varuna is the "sender of rain and the dewfall"; his mercy cherished their furrows and fostered their grain by watering the thirsty earth.

It means the rich, newly gathered and ripe harvest of the valley fields. It is the farmers' true wealth because it sustains and enriches their lives.

Prithvi is the Earth, whom the women hail as "Queen of the gourd-flower, queen of the harvest" and "sweet and omnipotent mother."

'Omnipotent' means all-powerful — the women address the Earth as having boundless power to nurture and sustain life.

Just as a mother's womb gives birth to a child, the Earth gives birth to all crops and riches; every grain and fruit is born from her soil.

The women bring their love and their garlands for tribute, and they come "with gifts of thy opulent giving" — offerings made out of the Earth's own generous bounty.

'Opulent' means rich and abundant. The Earth's giving is called opulent because she lavishly bestows far more than her children can repay.

Together they praise Bramha, the supreme Lord of the Universe, because he is the seed and the scythe, the beginning and end of every harvest, and the very source of their being.

It suggests that the divine is present in everything the people do and are — in their work (Hands), their feelings (Heart) and their shelter and family life (Home). God dwells within them and their world.

Because everything they have — even the harvest itself — has come from the divine, the only worthy offering they can make in return is themselves: their whole lives and their daily toil.

'Succour' means help and support in difficulty, and 'counsel' means guidance or advice. The people pray for God's help, guidance and care in return for their tribute.

It is introduced by the words "All Voices:", showing that men and women sing it together — the whole community united in praise, using "we" and "our" throughout.

By dividing the poem into "Men's Voices," "Women's Voices" and "All Voices," Sarojini Naidu shows that the whole community joins the harvest thanksgiving — every family and every person, man and woman alike, is grateful. Each group honours the power it depends upon most: the men, who sow and gather, praise Surya the ripening sun and Varuna the rain; the women praise Prithvi the motherly Earth; and at the end all voices merge to praise Bramha. The structure rises from the separate to the united, making the final stanza a powerful chorus of complete communal gratitude.

The poet fills the poem with festive sights and sounds of an Indian harvest festival. The fields are "the gold of our fields and the gold of our fruit," the valleys are "new-garnered and ripe," and garlands are offered as tribute. Music rings through every stanza — cymbal and flute, cymbal and pipe, cymbal and drum, and finally cymbal and prayer. The repeated cries of "we hail thee, we praise thee" sound like a communal song. Together, the golden imagery and the music create a mood of joyful celebration in a rural landscape.

The Seed and the Scythe stand for the two ends of farming — sowing and reaping, the beginning and the end of the harvest cycle. By saying that God is both, the people acknowledge that the divine is present at every stage of their agriculture: He starts life in the seed and completes it at harvest. On a deeper level, the Seed and Scythe also symbolise creation and conclusion of all life, for God is the origin and the culmination of everything.

A hymn is a song of praise offered to God with devotion. This poem has all the features of a hymn: it is addressed directly to the divine ("Lord of the lotus," "Queen of the gourd-flower," "O Bramha"); it uses reverent, worshipful language such as "we hail thee, we praise thee"; it offers tribute — songs, garlands, harvest, and finally "our lives and our labours"; and it closes with prayer ("Grant us thy succour, thy counsel, thy care"). Because its whole purpose is to thank the powers of nature for the harvest, the form of a hymn suits it perfectly.

Nature appears as a family of divine powers working together for humanity: Surya ripens the crops with his radiance, Varuna sends rain and dewfall to cherish the furrows, and Prithvi, the Earth-mother, carries the harvest in her womb and feeds all from her plentiful bosom. Human beings are shown as nature's children, wholly dependent on her gifts, and their relationship with nature is one of gratitude and reverence. The poem suggests a beautiful balance — nature gives abundantly, and humans return thanks, tribute and care.

In India, harvest festivals such as Pongal, Baisakhi, Onam and Bihu are celebrated exactly in the spirit of this poem — with music (cymbals, flutes and drums), garlands, community singing and offerings of the first fruits to the gods. Like the villagers in the poem, farming communities thank the sun, the rain and the earth before enjoying their new harvest. The poem captures this age-old rural tradition of praying, feasting and rejoicing together when the fields turn golden.

In the first three stanzas the people offer things outside themselves — songs, garlands, the gold of the fields, the wealth of the valleys, and love. But in the final stanza, all voices together offer "our lives and our labours for tribute" — the greatest offering of all, themselves. The progression shows deepening devotion: gratitude that begins with produce rises to complete self-dedication, and in return they seek not more wealth but God's succour, counsel and care.

The women address the Earth as "Sweet and omnipotent mother, O Earth!" and the whole stanza is built on motherly images: "Thine is the plentiful bosom that feeds us" pictures the Earth as a mother nursing her children at her breast, while "Thine is the womb where our riches have birth" shows her as the mother who gives birth to every crop. She is also "the source of our manifold gladness," the way a mother is the source of a family's happiness. The images together make nature's care feel personal, warm and loving.

These are old forms of 'you' and 'your', used here in keeping with the poem's traditional, devotional style. They give the hymn a solemn, timeless, scriptural dignity, as if the villagers were speaking a sacred language worthy of the gods. They also place the poem in a long tradition of English hymns and translations of Indian prayers, and so suit the elevated, worshipful tone of the thanksgiving.

The central idea is gratitude to nature and its divine powers for the gift of harvest. The poem teaches that human prosperity is not of our making alone — the sun ripens, the rain nourishes and the earth gives birth to our food — and therefore humility and thanksgiving are our proper response. It also celebrates the joy of a community that works, worships and rejoices together, offering not only its produce but its very lives and labours back to the Lord of the Universe.

The central theme of 'Harvest Hymn' is gratitude — the thankful recognition that nature, through its divine powers, is the true giver of the harvest, and that human beings must honour it with praise, tribute and prayer. The poem develops this theme in a rising movement of four stanzas. In the first stanza, the men honour Surya, whose "bounty prospered our sowing" and whose "mellowing radiance" ripened the corn; their tribute is songs, garlands and "the gold of our fields." In the second, they turn to Varuna, whose "mercy cherished our furrows" through rain and dewfall, offering thanks for "the wealth of our valleys, new-garnered and ripe." In the third, the women address Prithvi as a mother — feeding humankind from her "plentiful bosom" and giving birth to their riches in her womb — and offer her their love. Finally, all voices unite before Bramha, the "ineffable Om," and the theme reaches its peak: the people offer not crops but "our lives and our labours for tribute," seeking in return only God's "succour, thy counsel, thy care." The theme thus grows from thanks for particular gifts to complete self-offering to the giver of all life.

The poem presents the powers of nature as a family of deities, each with a distinct role in the harvest. Surya, the Sun God, is the "Bright and munificent lord of the morn," hailed as "lord of the lotus, lord of the harvest." His role is ripening: it is his "bounty that prospered our sowing" and "nurtured our corn," his "mellowing radiance" that turns green fields into gold. Varuna, praised as "Great and beneficent lord of the main" and "lord of the rainbow," governs water; as the "sender of rain and the dewfall," his mercy "cherished our furrows" and "fostered our grain" — without him the sown seed could never sprout or swell. Prithvi, the Earth, is portrayed by the women as the "Queen of the gourd-flower" and "sweet and omnipotent mother": she is the soil itself, whose "plentiful bosom" feeds humanity and whose "womb" gives birth to every crop, making her "the source of our manifold gladness." Finally, Bramha stands above all as "Lord of the Universe, Lord of our being," the "Father eternal, ineffable Om" who is "the Seed and the Scythe" — the beginning and end of every harvest — and even "our Hands and our Heart and our Home." Sun, rain, earth and the supreme creator thus work together in the poem to produce the harvest, and each is owed praise.

Sarojini Naidu fills the hymn with devices that make its praise rich and musical. (1) Repetition and anaphora: every stanza returns to the same pattern — "lord of the harvest," "Thine is the bounty/mercy," "We bring thee... for tribute," "we hail thee, we praise thee" — like the refrain of a devotional song; within single lines, phrases repeat too, as in "the gold of our fields and the gold of our fruit." (2) Metaphor and personification: the Earth is called a mother with a "plentiful bosom" and a "womb where our riches have birth"; Varuna's rain is "mercy that cherished our furrows." (3) Symbolism: the Seed and the Scythe symbolise the beginning and end of the harvest cycle; 'gold' symbolises the ripe crop; Om symbolises the ineffable supreme. (4) Alliteration: the recurrence of 'l' and 'h' sounds in "Lord of the lotus, lord of the harvest" and the h-sounds in "Thou art our Hands and our Heart and our Home." (5) Imagery: the poem appeals to the senses through golden fields and fruit, garlands, dewfall and the sounds of cymbals, flute, pipe and drum. (6) Apostrophe: every stanza directly addresses the deity — "O Surya," "O Earth," "O Bramha" — drawing the worshipper and the divine close. Together these devices turn a farmer's thank-you into a rich, musical hymn.

The poem teaches values that remain deeply relevant today. First, gratitude: the villagers never take their harvest for granted but offer the "first fruits" — songs, garlands and the gold of their fields — to the powers that made it possible. In our age of plenty, remembering to be thankful for food and for nature's gifts keeps us humble. Second, reverence for nature: the poem treats the sun, rain and earth as divine and deserving of care, a reminder that we are stewards, not exploiters, of the environment — a lesson modern farming and industry urgently need. Third, humility: the people admit that human effort alone cannot make crops grow; "Thine is the bounty" acknowledges our dependence on forces beyond us. Fourth, dignity of labour: the final offering of "our lives and our labours" shows that honest work itself can be worship. Fifth, community: the men, women and "all voices" of the village sing together, showing unity and shared joy. Today, when we face climate change and ecological damage, the poem's message — to honour and thank nature rather than exhaust it — is more valuable than ever.

'Harvest Hymn' is built entirely on the idea that human life hangs upon nature's gifts. Every image of the poem shows villagers receiving: Surya's radiance ripens their corn, Varuna's rain and dewfall cherish their furrows, and Prithvi's "plentiful bosom" feeds them, for "Thine is the womb where our riches have birth." The people themselves are pictured as children of nature — the Earth is their mother, and Nature's powers are their lords and queen. In return, the people give what they can: songs, thanks, love, garlands, the first fruits of the harvest, and finally their "lives and labours." This exchange — nature gives abundantly, humanity returns devotion and care — is the essence of interdependence. The poem shows a healthy balance that modern life has largely lost: instead of dominating nature, the villagers live within its cycle of seed, rain, sun, growth and scythe, acknowledging at every step that "Thou art the Seed and the Scythe of our harvests." Their festival is the annual renewal of this bond between the earth and those who till it.

The poem recreates the whole atmosphere of an Indian harvest thanksgiving. The village — men, women and all together — gathers with garlands and offerings; the fields and valleys are "new-garnered and ripe"; cymbals, flute, pipe and drum fill the air like processional music; and the people sing "we hail thee, we praise thee" in chorus. The emotions are those of every Indian harvest celebration: relief, joy and thankfulness after months of uncertain toil. This is very close to festivals I know — for example, Pongal in Tamil Nadu, where the first rice of the harvest is boiled in new pots with jaggery and offered first to Surya, the sun; or Baisakhi in Punjab, where farmers thank the earth and the heavens for the rabi harvest with fairs, bhangra and community feasting. Just as the poem's villagers bring "the gold of our fields and the gold of our fruit" to their gods, these festivals offer the first grain to the divine before anyone eats. The poem is, in effect, a literary Pongal or Baisakhi — a permanent record in verse of how rural India celebrates the earth's generosity.

(An imagined first-person account, based on the poem.) Today our valley is golden, and the whole village has gathered to give thanks. This morning, my father and the other men went first to the fields, carrying garlands of flowers we had strung at dawn. Facing the rising sun, we sang to Surya — lord of the lotus, bright and munificent lord of the morn — for it was his bounty that prospered our sowing and nurtured our corn. We brought him our songs and the gold of our fields and the gold of our fruit, praising him with cymbal and flute. Then we turned to Varuna, the sender of rain and the dewfall, whose mercy cherished our furrows during the dry months and fostered our grain; for him we brought our thanks and the wealth of our valleys, new-garnered and ripe, and played the pipe. Then my mother and the women came forward with drums, hailing Prithvi, the Earth, as their sweet and omnipotent mother — for her plentiful bosom feeds us, and it is her womb where our riches have birth. At the end, all of us — every voice in the village — joined together for the great chorus to Bramha, the Lord of the Universe, Father eternal, ineffable Om: He is the Seed and the Scythe of our harvests, our Hands and our Heart and our Home. We offered Him not just grain but our lives and our labours, and prayed for His succour, His counsel, His care. With the cymbals ringing and the prayers rising, I felt that the sun, the rain, the earth and our whole village were one family. The harvest is in — and our hearts are full.