01.12. The Sowers

THE SOWERS.

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"All seed is in the sower’s hands."—Rossetti.

Ten thousand sowers through the land Passed heedless on their way;

Ten thousand seeds in either hand. Of every sort had they.

They cast seed here, they cast seed there, They cast seed everywhere. The land a forest straightway grew, With plants of every kind; And kindly fruits and poisonous too, In that wood could you find: And trees grew here, and trees there, And trees grew everywhere.

Anon, as many a year went by, Those sowers came once more, And wandered ’neath the leaf-hid sky, And wondered at the store; For fruit hung here, and fruit hung there, And fruit hung everywhere.

Then plucked they many a berry bright, None could their right deny; And some ate to their lifelong delight, And some ate but to die;

While some plucked here, and some plucked there, And some plucked everywhere. Nor knew they in that tangled wood The trees that were their own;

Yet as they plucked as each one should, Each plucked what he had sown. So do men here, so do men there, So do men everywhere. Selected