Tangled in Stars

Poems 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 16]