The Last Robin
Lyrics and Sonnets


by Ethelwyn Wetherald



 

THE PLOWMAN.



I HEARD the plowman sing in the wind,
     And sing right merrily,
As down in the cold of the sunless mould
     The grasses buried he.

And now the grasses sing in the wind,

5

     Merrily do they sing;
While down in the cold of the sunless mould
     Is the plowman slumbering. [Page 95]