A Hidden Life and Other Poems

Proudly the youth, by manhood sudden crowned, Went walking by his horses to the plough, For the first time that morn. No soldier gay Feels at his side the throb of the gold hilt (Knowing the blue blade hides within its sheath, As lightning in the cloud) with more delight, When first he belts it on, than he that day Heard still the clank of the plough-chains against The horses' harnessed sides, as to the field They went to make it fruitful. O'er the hill The sun looked down, baptizing him for toil.

A farmer's son he was, and grandson too; Yea, his great-grandsire had possessed these fields. Tradition said they had been tilled by men Who bore the name long centuries ago, And married wives, and reared a stalwart race, And died, and went where all had followed them, Save one old man, his daughter, and the youth Who ploughs in pride, nor ever doubts his toil; And death is far from him this sunny morn. Why should we think of death when life is high? The earth laughs all the day, and sleeps all night. Earth, give us food, and, after that, a grave; For both are good, each better in its time.