"And was broken in turn. Who knows
"How our Lords make strife?
"It is good that the young wheat grows,
"For the bread is Life."
Then, far and near, as the twilight drew,
Hissed up to the scornful dark
Great serpents, blazing, of red and blue,
That rose and faded, and rose anew,
That the Land might wonder and mark.
"To-day is a day of days," they said,
"Make merry, O People, all!"
And the Ploughman listened and bowed his head:—
"To-day and to-morrow God's will," he said,
As he trimmed the lamps on the wall.
"He sendeth us years that are good,
"As He sendeth the dearth.
"He giveth to each man his food,
"Or Her food to the Earth.
"Our Kings and our Queens are afar—
"On their peoples be peace—
"God bringeth the rain to the Bar,
"That our cattle increase."
And the Ploughman settled the share
More deep in the sun-dried clod:—
"Mogul, Mahratta, and Mlech from the North,
"And White Queen over the Seas—
"God raiseth them up and driveth them forth
"As the dust of the ploughshare flies in the breeze;
"But the wheat and the cattle are all my care,
"And the rest is the will of God."
