METHOUGHT I came unto a world-wide plain <br /> Where souls stood thick as grain at harvest-tide, <br /> And many reapers, full of pious pride, <br />With rapid scythe-sweeps mowed them down amain; <br />And zealous binders bound them up like grain <br /> In sheaves: the reapers at each onward stride <br /> Trod many souls down. These the binders eyed <br />With careless looks or glances of disdain. <br />But, following slow, a patient Gleaner came <br /> And gathered all the Binders cast aside, <br /> And made fair sheaves thereof. Whereat I cried: <br />“Why gather these? Who art thou? Name thy name!” <br /> The Gleaner in a sad, sweet voice replied: <br />“The outcasts’ Saviour—for these, too, I died.” <br /> <br /><br /><br />Victor James Daley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-gleaner/
