Metallic sky, dull coppered slate; A straggling cornfield, parched and dead; Unpainted shack, bleak, desolate; A woman with a drooping head. But bravely, where the sun is shining still, Six red tomatoes on a window sill. Sagging barn; bare, rocky ground; Hot wind that blasts and chokes and sears; A crop in ruins all around; A man bent low with fruitless years. But bravely, as he plods home after while, A whistle on the lips that cannot smile. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OCTAVES: 2 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON SELF-INTERROGATION by EMILY JANE BRONTE HOW VIOLETS CAME BLUE by ROBERT HERRICK CARILLON by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW TO THE EARL OF WARWICK ON THE DEATH OF MR. ADDISON by THOMAS TICKELL STARTING FROM PAUMANOK by WALT WHITMAN |