Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE LABOURER, by ALEKSEY STEPANOVICH KHOMYAKOV Poet's Biography First Line: All day, so long as arms had power Last Line: Is ready to be sown by thee. Subject(s): Labor & Laborers; Work; Workers | ||||||||
ALL day, so long as arms had power, Through clinging clods of weedy waste, The heavy plough of patient plougher Full long enough its path has traced. Enough! with savage spite surrounded, While fools malign and scoffers flout, I have toiled, as though with strength unbounded; I am worn out. I am worn out. 'Tis time to rest. O waters purling And leafy trees, and plains that drowse, And high above my dingle curling The arches of the twining boughs. If only for one moment, bending Beside the stream in that dear nook, To drain, my thirsty lungs extending, The evening fragrance of the brook! To wipe my brow from noon-day swelter Till all the load of cares was gone! "Thou foolish one! For thee no shelter! For thee no rest! Go on! still on! "Look at the field! How much to claim thee! How few the hours that still remain! Arise! and let no weakness shame thee! Thy Master bids. Set forth again! "'Twas at a precious price I bought thee! The Cross, the Life-blood were the pay; Bend, tiller, o'er the task I taught thee! Toil, toiler, all the livelong day!" Before Thy high commandment humbled, O Lord, I tremble and submit, And that Thy foolish servant grumbled, Record not at Thy judgment-seat! With toil and sweat still undiminished, I will complete what Thou dost ask. I will not sleep till it is finished; I will not weaken at my task. Thy lazy servant shall not tarry; Firm in his hands the plough shall be, Until the field Thou bidst him harry Is ready to be sown by Thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER WORKING SIXTY HOURS AGAIN FOR WHAT REASON by HICOK. BOB DAY JOB AND NIGHT JOB by ANDREW HUDGINS BIXBY'S LANDING by ROBINSON JEFFERS ON BUILDING WITH STONE by ROBINSON JEFFERS LINES FROM A PLUTOCRATIC POETASTER TO A DITCH-DIGGER by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS IN CALIFORNIA: MORNING, EVENING, LATE JANUARY by DENISE LEVERTOV I MAY, I MIGHT, I MUST by MARIANNE MOORE |
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