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Robert Laurence Binyon - Strange Fruit
Work rating: Low

This year the grain is heavy--ripe;
 The apple shows a ruddier stripe;
 Never berries so profuse
 Blackened with so sweet a juice
 On brambly hedges, summer--dyed.
 The yellow leaves begin to glide;
 But Earth in careless lap--ful treasures
 Pledge of over--brimming measures,
 As if some rich unwonted zest
 Stirred prodigal within her breast.
 And now, while plenty`s left uncared,
 The fruit unplucked, the sickle spared,
 Where men go forth to waste and spill,
 Toiling to burn, destroy and kill,
 Lo, also side by side with these
 Beast--hungers, ravening miseries,
 The heart of man has brought to birth
 Splendours richer than his earth.
 Now in the thunder--hour of fate
 Each one is kinder to his mate;
 The surly smile; the hard forbear;
 There`s help and hope for all to share;
 And sudden visions of goodwill
 Transcending all the scope of ill
 Like a glory of rare weather
 Link us in common light together,
 A clearness of the cleansing sun,
 Where none`s alone and all are one;
 And touching each a priceless pain
 We find our own true hearts again.
 No more the easy masks deceive:
 We give, we dare, and we believe.
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