GO, ploughman, plough The mearing lands, The meadow lands, The mountain lands: All life is bare Beneath your share, All love is in your lusty hands. Up, horses, now! And straight and true Let every broken furrow run: The strength you sweat Shall blossom yet In golden glory to the sun. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE TWO WIVES by WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS A SHORT SONG OF CONGRATULATION by SAMUEL JOHNSON (1709-1784) SNAKES, MONGOOSES, SNAKE-CHARMERS, AND THE LIKE by MARIANNE MOORE THE ENGINE by ALEXANDER ANDERSON |