Full Online Books
Authors Authors Short Stories Short Stories Long Stories Long Stories Funny Stories Funny Stories Love Stories Love Stories Stories For Kids Stories For Kids Poems Poems Essays Essays Nonfictions Nonfictions Plays Plays Folktales Folktales Fairy Tales Fairy Tales Fables Fables Learning Kitchen Learning Kitchen
Valid XHTML 1.0 Transitional Free Classified Website Without Registration Free Classified Website Daniel Company
Twitter Twitter Add book
Full Online Book HomePoemsHarvests
Famous Authors (View All Authors)
Harvests Post by :Joey_Phillips Category :Poems Author :Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon Date :September 2011 Read :2263

Click below to download : Harvests (Format : PDF)


Other harvests there are than those that lie
Glowing and ripe 'neath an autumn sky,
Awaiting the sickle keen,
Harvests more precious than golden grain,
Waving o'er hillside, valley or plain,
Than fruits 'mid their leafy screen.

Not alone for the preacher, man of God,
Do those harvests vast enrich the sod,
For all may the sickle wield;
The first in proud ambition's race,
The last in talent, power or place,
Will all find work in that field.

Man toiling, lab'ring with fevered strain,
High office or golden prize to gain,
Rest both weary heart and head,
And think, when thou'lt shudder in death's cold clasp,
How earthly things will elude thy grasp,
At that harvest work instead!

Lady, with queenly form and brow,
Gems decking thy neck and arms of snow,
Who need only smile to win;
'Mid thy guests, perchance the gay, the grave,
Is one whom a warning word might save
From folly, sorrow or sin.

Let that word be said, thine eyes so bright
Will glow with holier, softer light
For the good that thou hast done;
And a time will come when thou wilt reap
From that simple act more pleasure deep
Than from flatt'ring conquests won.

Young girl in thy bright youth's blushing dawn,
Graceful and joyous as sportive fawn,
There is work for thee to do,
And higher aims than to flirt and smile,
And practise each gay, coquettish wile,
Admiring glances to woo.

Ah! the world is full of grief and care,
Sad, breaking hearts are every where,
And thou can'st give relief;
Alms to the needy--soft word of hope
That a brighter view may chance to ope
To mourners bowed by grief.

That gauzy tissue yon bud or flower
That tempt thee at the present hour,
To be worn, then cast aside,
Bethink thee, their price might comfort bring,
Fuel or food to the famishing
And help to the sorely tried.

Such harvest fruits are most precious and rare,
Worthy all toil and patient care,
Think of the promised reward!
Not earthly gains that will pass away
Like morning mist or bright sunset ray,
But Christ Himself, our Lord!

(The end)
Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon's poem: Harvests

If you like this book please share to your friends :

A Worldly Death-bed A Worldly Death-bed

A Worldly Death-bed
Hush! speak in accents soft and low, And treat with careful stealthThro' that rich curtained room which tells Of luxury and wealth;Men of high science and of skill Stand there with saddened brow,Exchanging some low whispered words-- What can their art do now?Follow their gaze to yonder couch Where moans in fitful painThe mistress of this splendid home, With aching heart and brain.The fever burning in her veins Tinges with carmine brightThat sunken cheek--alas! she needs No borrowed bloom to-night.The masses of her raven hair Fall down on either sideIn tangled richness--it

On Some Rose Leaves Brought From The Vale Of Cashmere On Some Rose Leaves Brought From The Vale Of Cashmere

On Some Rose Leaves Brought From The Vale Of Cashmere
Faded and pale their beauty, vanished their early bloom,Their folded leaves emit alone a sweet though faint perfume,But, oh! than brightest bud or flower to me are they more dear,They come from that rose-haunted land, the bright Vale of Cashmere.Cashmere! a spell is in that name! what dreams its sound awakesOf roses sweet as Eden's flowers, of minarets and lakes,Of scenes as vaguely, strangely bright as those of fairy land,Springing to life and loveliness 'neath some enchanter's wand!Cashmere! poetic in its name, its clear and brilliant skiesThat seem to clothe earth, flower and wave in their own lovely dyes;Poetic in its