---

Robert Laurence Binyon - Sowing Seed
Work rating: Low

As my hand dropt a seed
 In the dibbled mould
 And my mind hurried onward
 To picture the miracle
 June should unfold,

 On a sudden before me
 Hanging its head,
 With black petals
 Rotting and tainted,
 Stood a flower, dead;

 As if all the world`s hope
 Were rotting there,
 A thing to weep for,
 Ripe for burial,
 Veined with despair.

 Yet I cannot prevent
 My ignorant heart
 From trust that is deeper
 Than fear can fathom
 Or hope desert.

 The small twy--bladed
 Shoot will thrust
 To brave all hazards.
 The seed is sown
 And in Earth I trust.
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.