Press "Enter" to skip to content

The Battle Autumn

From the Grand Forks Daily Herald, December 4, 1914. By John G. Whittier.

What means the gladness of the plain,
    This joy of eve and morn,
The mirth that shakes the beard of grain
    And yellow locks of corn?

Ah! eyes may well be full of tears,
    And hearts with hate are hot,
But even-paced come ‘round the years,
    And nature changes not.

She meets with smiles our bitter grief,
    With songs our groans of pain;
She mocks with tint of flower and leaf
    The war field’s crimson stain.

Still, in the cannon’s pause, we hear
    Her sweet thanksgiving psalm;
Too near to God to doubt or fear,
    She shares the eternal calm.

She knows the seed lies safe below
    The fires that burst and burn;
For all the tears of blood we sow
    She waits the rich return.

She sees with clearer eye than ours
    The good of suffering born—
The hearts that blossom like her flowers,
    And ripen like her corn.

O, give to us, in times like these,
    The vision of her eyes;
And make her fields and fruited trees
    Our golden prophecies!

O, give to us her finer ear!
    Above this stormy din.
We, too, would hear the bells of cheer
    Ring peace and freedom in!

Comments are closed.

Mission News Theme by Compete Themes.