ALL shimmering in the morning shine <br />And diamonded with dew, <br />And quivering in the scented wind <br />That thrills its green heart through,-- <br />The little field, the smiling field, <br />With all its flowers a-blowing, <br />How happy looks the golden field <br />The day before the mowing! <br /> <br />All still 'neath the departing light, <br />Twilight, though void of stars, <br />Save where, low westering, Venus hides <br />From the red eye of Mars; <br />How quiet lies the silent field <br />With all its beauties glowing; <br />Just stirring,--like a child asleep,-- <br />The night before the mowing. <br />Sharp steel, inevitable hand, <br />Cut keen, cut kind! Our field <br />We know full well must be laid low <br />Before its wealth it yield: <br />Labor and mirth and plenty blest <br />Its blameless death bestowing: <br />And yet we weep, and yet we weep, <br />The night before the mowing.<br /><br />Dinah Maria Mulock Craik<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-night-before-the-mowing/
