The dawn departs, the morning is begun, The Trades come whispering from off the seas, The fields of corn are golden in the sun, The dark-brown tassels fluttering in the breeze; The bell is sounding and children pass, Frog-leaping, skipping, shouting, laughing shrill, Down the red road, over the pasture-grass, Up to the schoolhouse crumbling on the hill. The older folk are at their peaceful toil, Some pulling up the weeds, some plucking corn, And others breaking up the sun-baked soil. Float, faintly scented breeze, at early morn Over the earth where mortals sow and reap - Beneath its breast my mother lies asleep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VARIATIONS: 12 by CONRAD AIKEN AUGUST FIRST by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE POET SPEAKS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON BATTLEDORE AND SHUTTLECOCK by AMY LOWELL TO A MAN WORKING HIS WAY THROUGH THE CROWD by MARIANNE MOORE |