Classic and Contemporary Poetry
SONNET: 2, 1, by FREDERICK GODDARD TUCKERMAN Poet's Biography First Line: That boy, the farmer said, with hazel wand Last Line: The pokeberry spit purple on my hand? Subject(s): Farm Life; Agriculture; Farmers | ||||||||
That boy, the farmer said, with hazel wand Pointing him out, half by the haycock hid, Though bare sixteen, can work at what he's bid From sun till set, to cradle, reap, or band. I heard the words, but scarce could understand Whether they claimed a smile or gave me pain: Or was it aught to me, in that green lane, That all day yesterday, the briars amid, He held the plough against the jarring land Steady, or kept his place among the mowers Whilst other fingers, sweeping for the flowers, Brought from the forest back a crimson stain? Was it a thorn that touched the flesh, or did The pokeberry spit purple on my hand? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...KICKING THE LEAVES by DONALD HALL THE FARMER'S BOY: WINTER by ROBERT BLOOMFIELD THE FARMER'S BOY: SPRING by ROBERT BLOOMFIELD THE FARMER'S BOY: SUMMER by ROBERT BLOOMFIELD THE FARMER'S BOY: AUTUMN by ROBERT BLOOMFIELD THE CRICKET by FREDERICK GODDARD TUCKERMAN |
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