University of Virginia Library

XII.

Vast plateaus of loamy land she saw,
Quickening with life in the early thaw.
The pulse of the waking spring she heard,
And the broken trills of the gladdened bird,
And the teams afield with their heavy plod
As they dragged the share through the juicy sod.
Through the crisp, clear air she heard the voice
Of sturdy ploughmen and farmer-boys,
And a busy din from the farm-yards rang,
And she heard the spades in the furrows clang.
Then a sudden change swept over the scene,
As the summer sun with a light serene
Smiled upon cottage and field and fold,
And reddened the harvests of waving gold.
Then down through the golden sea there came
The mowers swarthy and stout of frame;
And the cradle-scythe in their hands they swung
Till the hiss of the blade through the grain-fields rung,
As they cut their way with a mighty motion,
Like sharp-prowed ships in a yellow ocean.
Then the Sewing Bird sang like a mellow horn,
As it soared o'er Ohio's land of corn,
“See, see, see, see!
This is the place where MEN should be!”