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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=472595" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Ploughman</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">ANNIVERSARY OF THE BERKSHIRE AGRICULTURAL SOCIETY,<br>OCTOBER 4, 1849</div><div style="margin:10px 0">CLEAR the brown path, to meet his coulter's gleam!<br>Lo! on he comes, behind his smoking team,<br>With toil's bright dew-drops on his sunburnt brow,<br>The lord of earth, the hero of the plough!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">First in the field before the reddening sun,<br>Last in the shadows when the day is done,<br>Line after line, along the bursting sod,<br>Marks the broad acres where his feet have trod;<br>Still, where he treads, the stubborn clods divide,<br>The smooth, fresh furrow opens deep and wide;<br>Matted and dense the tangled turf upheaves,<br>Mellow and dark the ridgy cornfield cleaves;<br>Up the steep hillside, where the laboring train<br>Slants the long track that scores the level plain;<br>Through the moist valley, clogged with oozing clay,<br>The patient convoy breaks its destined way;<br>At every turn the loosening chains resound,<br>The swinging ploughshare circles glistening round,<br>Till the wide field one billowy waste appears,<br>And wearied hands unbind the panting steers.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">These are the hands whose sturdy labor brings<br>The peasant's food, the golden pomp of kings;<br>This is the page, whose letters shall be seen<br>Changed by the sun to words of living green;<br>This is the scholar, whose immortal pen<br>Spells the first lesson hunger taught to men;<br>These are the lines which heaven-commanded Toil<br>Shows on his deed,--the charter of the soil.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O gracious Mother, whose benignant breast<br>Wakes us to life, and lulls us all to rest,<br>How thy sweet features, kind to every clime,<br>Mock with their smile the wrinkled front of time<br>We stain thy flowers,--they blossom o'er the dead;<br>We rend thy bosom, and it gives us bread;<br>O'er the red field that trampling strife has torn,<br>Waves the green plumage of thy tasselled corn;<br>Our maddening conflicts sear thy fairest plain,<br>Still thy soft answer is the growing grain.<br>Yet, O our Mother, while uncounted charms<br>Steal round our hearts in thine embracing arms,<br>Let not our virtues in thy love decay,<br>And thy fond sweetness waste our strength away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No! by these hills, whose banners now displayed<br>In blazing cohorts Autumn has arrayed;<br>By yon twin summits, on whose splintery crests<br>The tossing hemlocks hold the eagles' nests;<br>By these fair plains the mountain circle screens,<br>And feeds with streamlets from its dark ravines,<br>True to their home, these faithful arms shall toil<br>To crown with peace their own untainted soil;<br>And, true to God, to freedom, to mankind,<br>If her chained bandogs Faction shall unbind,<br>These stately forms, that bending even now<br>Bowed their strong manhood to the humble plough,<br>Shall rise erect, the guardians of the land,<br>The same stern iron in the same right hand,<br>Till o'er their hills the shouts of triumph run,<br>The sword has rescued what the ploughshare won!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Oliver+Wendell+Holmes">Oliver Wendell Holmes</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=472595" data-title="The Ploughman de Oliver Wendell Holmes" data-description="ANNIVERSARY OF THE BERKSHIRE AGRICULTURAL SOCIETY,
OCTOBER 4, 1849

CLEAR the brown path, to meet his coulter's gleam!
Lo! on he comes, behind his smoking team,
With toil's bright dew-drops on his sunburnt brow,
The lord of earth, the hero of the ..."></div>
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