'THE fields are white to harvest, look and see, Are white abundantly. The full-orbed harvest moon shines clear, The harvest time draws near, Be of good cheer.' 'Ah woe is me! I have no heart for harvest time, Grown sick with hope deferred from chime to chime.' 'But Chirst can give thee heart Who loveth thee: Can set thee in the eternal ecstasy Of His great jubilee: Can give thee dancing heart and shining face, And lips filled full of grace, And pleasures as the rivers and the sea. Who knocketh at His door He welcomes evermore: Kneel down before That ever-open door (The time is short) and smite Thy breast, and pray with all thy might.' 'What shall I say?' 'Nay, pray. Tho' one but say "Thy Will be done," He hath not lost his day At set of sun.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WISDOM COMETH WITH THE YEARS by COUNTEE CULLEN ON THE INFLATION OF THE CURRENCY, 1919 by ROBERT FROST TO MAY HOWARD JACKSON - SCULPTOR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON BACCALAUREATE by ARCHIBALD MACLEISH |