SOWN are the golden seeds in the smooth furrow And cover'd from view; Deeper furrows some day shall thy bones conceal, And under one blue Of the heavens over-hanging, the ploughman Shall gather food for the living: Hope from even the tomb vanishes never, New life the furrows are giving. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONG OF SLAVES IN THE DESERT by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER COMOS by ADRA CAROLINE BATCHELDER AFTER OPERATION by JULIET BRANHAM THE CANTERBURY TALES: THE MERCHANT'S TALE - EPILOGUE by GEOFFREY CHAUCER THE SONS OF HEAVEN by GRANT HYDE CODE |