They who quit the soil with hopes swung high, And dropped their heavy boots for city shoes, To leave a proper footprint for the eye Of Fortune to behold -- they could not lose -- Those strong ones who from son to son had walked The furrowed ground and dropped their fertile seed, And who of evenings smoked their pipes and talked With friendly neighbor of the market's need. They could not lose -- and yet they did. Those men Who beat their puny fists against the Wheel And lost the clear horizons that had been, And felt the heavy weight of Fortune's heel. But grim, undaunted eyes bend earthward now As strong hands close again on rusting plow. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 26 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE CANTERBURY TALES: THE GENERAL PROLOGUE by GEOFFREY CHAUCER OUR CHRIST by HARRY WEBB FARRINGTON THE LIGHT OF OTHER DAYS by THOMAS MOORE THE WATCH OF A SWAN by SARAH MORGAN BRYAN PIATT EULALIE; A SONG by EDGAR ALLAN POE TIPPERARY: 5. BY OUR OWN EUGENE FIELD by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |