Good morning, my dear English
learners! I have a very thoughtful poem for you. Why do we live, love? Comment
your ideas below!
THIS sheaf
that I have bound, of mingled grain,
Beneath the noon to give a spot of
shade,
Where might we sit and mark, before
they fade,
The fleeting light across life’s dappled
plain;
Before with its treasured had Time’s
rolling wain—
Piled up with memories, and thoughts
unsaid,
With hopes and fears in trembling leaf
and blade—
Turns sun-ward, where the harvest-home is
made.
Perchance the tangled stems some flowers
enfold,
Not all unmeet the brows of her to
wreath,
Who with me bore the burden of the
morn.
If yet the scarlet please not, on the
corn,
Love’s blue is stedfast, and thy name in
gold
Is written by love’s wing-feather
underneath.
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