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The Sheaves
#1
The Sheaves

Where long the shadows of the wind had rolled,
Green wheat was yielding to the change assigned;
And as by some vast magic undivined
The world was turning slowly into gold.

Like nothing that was ever bought or sold
It waited there, the body and the mind;
And with a mighty meaning of a kind
That tells the more the more is it not told.

So in a land where all days are not fair,
Fair days went on till on another day
A thousand golden sheaves were lying there,

Shining and still, but not for long to stay –
As if a thousand girls with golden hair
Might rise from where they slept and go away.
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