Famine And Harvest
[PLYMOUTH PLANTATION: 1622] The strong and the tender, The young and the old, Unto Death we must render; - Our silver, our gold. To break their long sleeping No voice may avail: They hear not our weeping - Our famished love's wail. Yea, those whom we cherish Depart, day by day. Soon we, too, shall perish And crumble to clay. And the vine and the berry Above us will bloom; The wind shall make merry While we lie in gloom. Fear not! Though thou starvest, Provision is made: God gathers His harvest When our hopes fade!
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"[PLYMOUTH PLANTATION: 1622]..."
Exploring the themes of classic, George Parsons Lathrop delivers a powerful performance in "Famine And Harvest"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...