The Meadow Lark Poem by Hamlin Garland
The Meadow Lark
Rating: ★2.8
A BRAVE little bird that fears not God,
A voice that breaks from the snow-wet clod
With prophecy of sunny sod,
Set thick with wind-waved goldenrod.
From the first bare clod in the raw, cold spring,
From the last bare clod, when fall winds sting,
The farm-boys hears his brave song ring,
And work for the time is a pleasant thing.
Monday, September 27, 2010
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4/19/2024 4:38:45 AM # 1.0.0.1119
