|
|
|
Prev
| Next
| Contents
HARVEST.
So a small seed that in the earth lies hid
And dies, reviving bursts her cloddy side,
Adorned with yellow locks, of new is born,
And doth become a mother great with corn,
Of grains brings hundreds with it, which when old
Enrich the furrows with a sea of gold.
Prev
| Next
| Contents
|
|
|