Classic and Contemporary Poetry
A PLOUGHMAN AT ELTHAM, by VICTOR GUSTAVE PLARR Poet's Biography First Line: Cross-legged, and brown as his field in hue Last Line: Whither its poor go down. Subject(s): Change; Labor & Laborers; Plowing & Plowmen; Work; Workers | ||||||||
Cross-legged, and brown as his field in hue, The old ploughman treads behind his antique share, His wrinkled hands, keeping the coulter true, Grown huge in the keen air. The red walls of the gardens close at hand Enclose the promise of rich-blossomed spring; Through all the corners of the hazy land The larks and thrushes sing. Strange that I stand to-day with eyes intent On such old simple things are horse and plough, The town's distracting grim environment Rend'ring them marvels now; Strange too, and sad, that he who ploughs has grown Even 'mid these fields an unfamiliar thing, Sum of old forces long since overthrown, Old creeds that aye take wing. Holbein once painted in fantastic mode A ploughman and four horses, to whose sides Death darts with furiously uplifted goad And obscene elfin strides. Our century, grown dazed and out of breath, Pants past the honestest of Adam's sons: In every furrow every kind of death Beside this peasant runs! Out there, not three miles off, great London looms, Each long new street a throat that still desires The sap of earth, each house of sordid rooms A wreck of the bird's choirs. He is, I think, the last of all his kin Who ear these lands: his children all have sold Their birthright for scant bread or hunger in The streets not pav'n with gold. Bless'd shall he be if that he still retain His cottage with its flowers and thyme and sage, And in the churchyard there, a cramp'd demesne Held since King Wihtred's age; Bless'd, nay twice bless'd, if that he need not brave The gaunt promiscuous workhouse in the town, The base oblivion of a common grave Whither its poor go down. | 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 EPITAPHIUM CITHARISTRIAE by VICTOR GUSTAVE PLARR |
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