Lo, these are they that toil by night With mattock and with spade, Beneath the flickering lanthorn light, In meadow and in glade! Row upon long and crowded row, How gruesome is the seed they sow! Back on the fair and furrowed lands The earth and sod they toss, And some, with reverential hands, Place here and there a cross, A simple rough-hewn cross as though To sanctify the seed they sow. Oh, may some flower of love arise Above the bruised sod, Some flower of love to greet the eyes, The grieving eyes of God! Some flower of love whereon shall fall The dews of peace perennial! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY LAST DUCHESS; FERRRA by ROBERT BROWNING SUNSET AND SUNRISE by EMILY DICKINSON THE MAD GARDENER'S SONG by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON THE ITALICS ARE RICHARD GIFFORD'S by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS ON THE DEATH OF HER BODY by JAMES KEIR BAXTER FIFINE AT THE FAIR by ROBERT BROWNING ON THE UNION AND THREE-FOLD DISTINCTION OF GOD, NATURE AND CREATURE by JOHN BYROM |