SHARPEN the sickle! The fields are white,
‘Tis the time of the harvest at last;
Reapers! be up with the morning light,
Ere the blush of its youth be past.
Why stand on the highway, and lounge at the gate,
With a summer day’s work to perform?
If we wait for the hiring, ’tis long we may wait-
Till the hour of the night and the storm.
Sharpen the sickle! How proud they stand,
In the pomp of their golden grain!
But I’m thinking, ere noon, ‘neath the sweep of my hand,
How many shall lie on the plain!
Tho’ the ditch be wide, the fence be high,-
There’s a spirit to carry us o’er;
For God never meant his people to die
In sight of so rich a store.
Sharpen the sickle! How full are the ears!
And at home they are crying for bread;
And the field has been watered with orphans’ tears,
And enriched with their father’s dead.
And hopes that are buried, and hearts that broke,
Lie deep in the treasuring sod:
Then dash down the grain with a thunderstroke,
In the name of humanity’s God!
(Ernest Jones)
More Poetry from Ernest Jones:
Ernest Jones Poems based on Topics: Light, Night, God, Thought & Thinking, Time, Name, Past, Home, Sense & Perception, Morning, Summer- The Painter Of Florence (Ernest Jones Poems)
- The Battle-Day, Or, The Lost Army (Ernest Jones Poems)
- The Life Of A Flower (Ernest Jones Poems)
- The March Of Freedom (Ernest Jones Poems)
- Leawood Hall (Ernest Jones Poems)
- Plough And Loom (Ernest Jones Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: God Poems, Night Poems, Light Poems, Time Poems, Sense & Perception Poems, Name Poems, Thought & Thinking Poems, Home Poems, Past Poems, Morning Poems, Summer PoemsBased on Keywords: sharpen, enriched, hiring, treasuring, thunderstroke