PLOWED UNDER by New York Observer

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Jul 2, 1894

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 20, No. 34.

PLOWED UNDER.

By New York Observer

I saw a field of rich, green clover grow, Its blossoms honey-laden for the bee; And turning to the owner, who stood by, I asked what time the harvest would be.

'"Twill not be gathered in." "How then?" I cried, "Have you no recompense for all your toil?" The farmer smiled, he was more wise than I; "I plow it under to enrich the soil."

And all at once I seemed to see more clear Some things that I had tried to comprehend. Has not the heart, like that broad field, its growths That never seem to reach their destined end?

Its early dreams that perish unfulfilled? Its youthful hopes that perish ere their prime? Its fond affections and its tender love, Borne down before their perfect blossom time?

I mused on these, and as I turned my feet Back to the city, with its swift turmoil, I smiled and said in tranquil, sweet content, "God plow them under to enrich the soil." —New York Observer.