The Man with the Hoe, and Other Poems (Markham, Pyle, 1900)/Griefs

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Griefs

The rains of winter scourged the weald,
For days they darkened on the field:
Now, where the wings of winter beat,
The poppies ripple in the wheat.


And pitiless griefs came thick and fast—
Life's bough was naked in the blast—
Till silently amid the gloom
They blew the wintry heart to bloom.

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