My harvest is done, its promise is ended, Weak and watery sets the sun, Day and night in one mist are blended, My harvest is done. Long while running, how short when run, Time to eternity has descended, Timeless eternity has begun. Was it the narrow way that I wended? Snares and pits was it mine to shun? The scythe has fallen, so long suspended, My harvest is done. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A TOAST TO OUR NATIVE LAND by ROBERT BRIDGES (1858-1941) THE CHARACTER OF A GOOD PARSON by GEOFFREY CHAUCER THE YEAR'S AWAKENING by THOMAS HARDY THE HOLY SCRIPTURES (1) by GEORGE HERBERT SONNET: 42 by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY SONNET WRITTEN IN THE FALL OF 1914: 1 by GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY BENNINGTON by WILLIAM HENRY BABCOCK |