Futile Harvest.
Mortals came in
solitary tune,
To grace vain harvest in
glades of due,
What nest of shame
would your reapers frame?
Battered basket,bags of bad-seed brace!
Homeward all your perfection,
Your progress,hills of reflection
Patching you gracious peasants
Till your harvest is brought to ages.
solitary tune,
To grace vain harvest in
glades of due,
What nest of shame
would your reapers frame?
Battered basket,bags of bad-seed brace!
Homeward all your perfection,
Your progress,hills of reflection
Patching you gracious peasants
Till your harvest is brought to ages.
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