Harvest Song (Jean Toomer Poems)
I am a reaper whose muscles set at sundown. All my oats are cradled.But I am too chilled, and too ...
I am a reaper whose muscles set at sundown. All my oats are cradled.But I am too chilled, and too ...
See! the corn again in ear!How the fields and valleys smile!Harvest now is drawing nearTo repay the farmer's toil:Gracious Lord, ...
THE noon was as a crystal bowl The red wine mantled through;Around it like a Viking's beard The red-gold hazes blew,As tho' ...
I. -- Here.IT is harvest-time in England,And I see the sheaves of cornIn their lines like sentries standingRound the farm ...
Fat and full of health are the valleys of the Condamine,There the yellow maize and the green tobacco grow,Through the ...
"The cross, if rightly borne, shall beNo burden, but support to thee;"So, moved of old time for our sake,The holy ...
In the beginning of time, there rose from the churning of God'sdream two women. One is the dancer at the ...
O thou whose face hath felt the Winter's wind, Whose eye has seen the snow-clouds hung in mist And the black elm ...
I.WHAT shalt THOU know of Spring? A verdant crown Of young boughs waving o'er thy blooming head: White tufted Guelder-roses, ...
Swept from his fleet upon that fatal night When great Poseidon's sudden-veering wrath Scattered the happy homeward-floating Greeks Like foam-flakes ...
First-born of the creating Voice!Minister of God's Spirit, who wast sentWaiting upon him first, what time he wentMoving about mid ...
Green Spring receivethThe vacant earth;The white sun shineth;Spring wind provokethTo burst and burgeonEach sprout and flower.In those dark caves where ...
Before he wrote a poem, he learned the measureThat living in the future gives a farm—Propinquity of mules and cows, ...
I.We bore him through the golden land,One early harvest morn;The corn stood ripe on either hand—He knew all about the ...
So still—so still! Only the endless sighing Of sad ?olian harp-notes overhead; Only the soft mass-music for the dying; ...
"SUMMER is fading; the broad leaves that grew So freshly green, when June was young, are falling; And, all ...
I am like, They tell me, my dear father. Broader brows Howbeit, upon a slenderer undergrowth Of delicate ...
Shepherd. That cry's from the first cuckoo of the year. I wished before it ceased. Goatherd. Nor bird nor beast ...
In the beginning of time, there rose from the churning of God's dream two women. One is the dancer at ...
I am a reaper whose muscles set at sundown. All my oats are cradled. But I am too chilled, and ...
Here, where the world is quiet; Here, where all trouble seems Dead winds' and spent waves' riot In doubtful dreams ...
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