EVERY morning John, the granger, looked with sadness on his corn, for it was in deadly danger, by the hot winds seared and torn. Through the weary weeks he'd tilled it—only nightfall made him stop—hoping by his toil to build it into something like a crop. It was perishing for water, and the heavens leaked no more; every day was fiercer, hotter, than the day that went before. And it seemed to John the granger, as he watched his corn crop go, that henceforth he'd be a stranger to all things but grief and woe. But when once suspense was ended, and he knew the crop was gone, "Next year's crop may well be splendid, and I'll bank on that," said John. "Two bad years don't come together—that would be too fierce, gadzooks! So next year we'll have such weather as we read about in books." Thus the buoyant, hopeful mortal rises when the worst is known, to surprise you with a chortle when you're looking for a groan. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PREJUDICE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: BENJAMIN PANTIER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE MORAL FABLES: THE COCK AND THE FOX by AESOP LEGEND OF HAMILTON TIGHE by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM A DIALOGUE (FOR A BASE AND TWO TREBLES) by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |