GO, ploughman, plough The mearing lands, The meadow lands, The mountain lands: All life is bare Beneath your share, All love is in your lusty hands. Up, horses, now! And straight and true Let every broken furrow run: The strength you sweat Shall blossom yet In golden glory to the sun. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A VISION UPON [THIS CONCEIT] OF THE FAERIE QUEENE (2) by WALTER RALEIGH THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 77. SOUL'S BEAUTY by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 72 by PHILIP SIDNEY HELTER SKELTER; OR, THE HUE AND CRY AFTER THE ATTORNEYS by JONATHAN SWIFT ON THE BIRTH OF A FRIEND'S ELDEST SON by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |