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C.D. Warner, et al., comp.  The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes.  1917.
 
An Epitaph for a Husbandman
By Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts (1860–1943)
 
From ‘Book of the Native’

HE who would start and rise
  Before the crowing cocks,—
No more he lifts his eyes,
      Whoever knocks.
 
He who before the stars        5
  Would call the cattle home,—
They wait about the bars
      For him to come.
 
Him at whose hearty calls
  The farmstead woke again,—        10
The horses in their stalls
      Expect in vain.
 
Busy and blithe and bold,
  He labored for the morrow;—
The plow his hands would hold        15
      Rests in the furrow.
 
His fields he had to leave,
  His orchards cool and dim;
The clods he used to cleave
      Now cover him.        20
 
But the green, growing things
  Lean kindly to his sleep;—
White roots and wandering strings,
      Closer they creep.
 
Because he loved them long,        25
  And with them bore his part,
Tenderly now they throng
      About his heart.
 
 
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