Pity a troubled little farm tonight, Half-buried in sand and dry dead grass. Pity the lowing cattle, unhoused, that pass Slowly along the ridge To wait recurrent dawnings. Pity the farmer in thin gray coat lifting A half empty bucket from the well -- Pondering in his heart what next to sell Or trade for things he could have raised Had there been water. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FUGUE FOR A DROWNED GIRL by JAMES GALVIN ON THE DEATH OF MRS. (NOW LADY) THROCKMORTON'S BULLFINCH by WILLIAM COWPER A RENUNCIATION by EDWARD DE VERE OPEN, TIME by LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY ULTIMA THULE: NIGHT by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW SHEEP AND LAMBS by KATHARINE TYNAN HE MOURNS FOR THE CHANGE THAT HAS COME UPON HIM AND BELOVED by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |