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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
HARVEST SONG, by RICHARD DEHMEL
First Line: A field of golden wheat there grows
Last Line: Grind, o mill, keep grinding!
Subject(s): Fields; Harvest; Rain; Pastures; Meadows; Leas
First Line: A field of golden wheat there grows
Last Line: Grind, o mill, keep grinding!
Subject(s): Fields; Harvest; Rain; Pastures; Meadows; Leas
A FIELD of golden wheat there grows,
Even to the world's end it goes.
Grind, O mill, keep grinding!
The wind falters in all the land,
The mills on the horizon stand.
Grind, O mill, keep grinding!
The evening sky turns somber red;
Many poor people cry for bread.
Grind, O mill, keep grinding!
The night's womb holds a storm within;
To-morrow shall the task begin.
Grind, O mill, keep grinding!
The storm shall sweep the fields of earth
Until no man cries out for dearth!
Grind, O mill, keep grinding!
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Other Poems of Interest...
HUNTING PHEASANTS IN A CORNFIELD by ROBERT BLY
THREE KINDS OF PLEASURES by ROBERT BLY
QUESTION IN A FIELD by LOUISE BOGAN
THE LAST MOWING by ROBERT FROST
FIELD AND FOREST by RANDALL JARRELL
AN EXPLANATION by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON
IN FIELDS OF SUMMER by GALWAY KINNELL
BEFORE THE STORM by RICHARD DEHMEL