My soul is a dark ploughed field In the cold rain; My soul is a broken field Ploughed by pain. Where grass and bending flowers Were growing, The field lies broken now For another sowing. Great Sower when you tread My field again, Scatter the furrows there With better grain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A CRADLE SONG by WILLIAM BLAKE DRIFTING by THOMAS BUCHANAN READ VETERAN SIRENS by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE SONG OF THE MOUTH-ORGAN by ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE UNDERWOODS: BOOK 1: 5. THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON DAWN by GEORGE LAWRENCE ANDREWS EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 14. THE POWERFUL ATTRACTION by PHILIP AYRES |