Classic and Contemporary Poetry
HARVEST-HOME SONG, by JOHN DAVIDSON Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: The frost will bite us soon Last Line: Drink deep; drink it up! Subject(s): Drinks & Drinking; Harvest; Wine | ||||||||
THE frost will bite us soon; His tooth is on the leaves: Beneath the golden moon We bear the golden sheaves: We care not for the winter's spite, We keep our Harvest-home to-night. Hurrah for the English yeoman! Fill full, fill the cup! Hurrah! he yields to no man! Drink deep; drink it up! The pleasure of a king Is tasteless to the mirth Of peasants when they bring The harvest of the earth. With pipe and tabor hither roam All ye who love our Harvest-home. The thresher with his flail, The shepherd with his crook, The milkmaid with her pail, The reaper with his hook -- To-night the dullest blooded clods Are kings and queens, are demigods. Hurrah for the English yeoman! Fill full; fill the cup! Hurrah! he yields to no man! Drink deep; drink it up! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A CUP OF TREMBLINGS by JOHN HOLLANDER VINTAGE ABSENCE by JOHN HOLLANDER SENT WITH A BOTTLE OF BURGUNDY FOR A BIRTHDAY by JOHN HOLLANDER TO A CIVIL SERVANT by EDMUND JOHN ARMSTRONG WINE by FRIEDRICH MARTIN VON BODENSTEDT THE GOOD FELLOW by ALEXANDER BROME WHEN A WOMAN LOVES A MAN by DAVID LEHMAN A BALLAD OF HELL by JOHN DAVIDSON |
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