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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!
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