With restive thoughts I watch the ploughman on an upland field. Gulls follow ... low ... and cry behind his sharp and gleaming share. How zealously they gather what the upturned earth may yield As warm spring air is pungent with the scent of mold laid bare. The nettle-woven stubble of a late year's growing grain Will soon be overturned and lost forever from the sun. While some shambling plow man pours new seed upon the plain And hopes with newer growth, all former yields will be out-done. Could one put old resentments and past sorrowings away With no more strife and straining than the hand that guides the plow, Cut deep and leave forgotten all the cares of yesterday Spring harrowing would find new peace upspringing here and now. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY HEART IS HEAVY by SARA TEASDALE THE TASK: BOOK 4. THE WINTER EVENING by WILLIAM COWPER RIDDLE: TEETH AND GUMS by MOTHER GOOSE VERSES TO MR. C by ALEXANDER POPE I AM NOT YOURS by SARA TEASDALE LILIES: 7. BEHIND by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) THE FOOD OF THE SOUL by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE ROMANCE by FRANCES HALLEY BROCKETT THE WANDERER: 2. IN FRANCE: COMPENSATION by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |