Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE THRESHING-FLOOR, by DOROTHY PAUL


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE THRESHING-FLOOR, by                    
First Line: Beyond the valleys flushed with almond-buds
Last Line: "as kings give unto kings."


Beyond the valleys flushed with almond-buds,
Beyond the blue, deep circle of Judean hills,
Where yet the mist of new-fledged olive-boughs
Lay gray as rain,
The fleece-girt shepherds shaded troubled brows
To see them go,
The hosts of David, bannered, terrible,
Across the plain,
Winding in purple pomp to Jericho,
And still the leaf was green upon the fig,
And still
The wild grape pitched her bronzing tabernacles
On the hill,
When they came back across the gilding fields
In broken might,
Seeking, beside his wheat-gold threshing-floor,
Ornan the Jebusite.

So have they come to us, the broken kings,
To stand among our wheat-chaff and our flails,
Staining our mill-stones with the blood and fire
Of covenant.
Lo! we have known too long the field, the byre,
Have loved too well
The goodly thunder of the flails upon the floor,
The threshers' chant;
Too long have lingered in the market-place to sell
And weigh.
Not only wheat and oxen shall they take
Of us, -- nay,
Corn and oil and the burnt flesh of sacrifice, these things
Be lesser things, --
Take of our sons, our prayers, our blood, that we may give
"As kings give unto kings."





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