Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, LAND OWNER, by GRACE KEELAN



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LAND OWNER, by            
First Line: To a high place that looks all ways
Last Line: Of soil and toil to make my yield.
Subject(s): Property; Possessions


To a high place that looks all ways
I climb at dawn's first stir, for praise
Of the four far-spaced pylons
Of emptiness -- the horizons;

Of clouds' imponderous blending,
Ramping winds and hawks ascending;
Of the silver planets' singing
Atoms against atoms ringing;

Of steady lamps, stars' old burning,
Of the great white sun upturning;
Of wages paid, strife for content,
Of strong earth in time quiescent.

Then I go down into my field
Of soil and toil to make my yield.





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