SPRUNG from the arid rock devoid of soil, In vig'rous life I saw one blade of wheat, Bearing its precious grain, full-lobed and sweet, Remote from eye of him whose lusty toil In other harvest recompense hath found; And it seemed good to me that labour should Beyond its aim or asking thus abound, While reaping to itself its purchased food: So, too, from him, who the prolific thought Sows in the cultured field of intellect, A wandering breath its course may intersect, And bear an embryo with rich promise fraught Within some barren soul to germinate, And fill with fruitful life what else were desolate. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A FAREWELL TO AMERICA, TO MRS. S. W. by PHILLIS WHEATLEY THIS COMPOST: 1. by WALT WHITMAN SUNRISE AND SUNSET: 1. SUNRISE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) SHRODON FEAR: THE VU'ST PEART by WILLIAM BARNES THE MODERN TIPPLING PHILOSOPHERS by JAMES HAY BEATTIE SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 12 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING TO MY OLD AND MOST WORTHY FRIEND MR. IZAAK WALTON, ON LIFE OF DONNE by CHARLES COTTON |