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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE ENGLISH FARM-LABORER'S SUNDAY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: The winds are sweet that sweep to-day
Last Line: Each day in all the seven.
Alternate Author Name(s): Van Deth, Gerrit, Mrs.
Subject(s): Bible; Churches; Labor & Laborers; Sabbath; Cathedrals; Work; Workers; Sunday


THE winds are sweet that sweep to-day
O'er miles of tilth and fallow,
And clear the ring from far away
Of Sabbath chimes that hallow
And set the morning by itself,
Serenest of the seven.
"Take down the Bible from the shelf,
And read the words of heaven."

Did some one speak? The house is still;
Yet if a voice had spoken,
Not swifter could the low "I will"
Have sent responsive token.
The old man bends above the page,
With reverent eyes that linger,
While traces out its counsel sage
His slow and patient finger.

Flows on the stately Hebrew psalm
In grand heroic measure;
It floods his soul with waves of calm,
It fills his heart with pleasure:
"Commit thy way unto the Lord,
And trust His loving-kindness;
He 'll keep thee fast in watch and ward,
And smite thy foes with blindness.

"His rain upon thy pasture-land
Shall fall in gentle showers;
His sun shall rise in beauty grand
On orchard, grain, and flowers.
Though all thy loved should leave thy side,
Thou shalt be never lonely,
For near thee will the Lord abide,
If thou wilt serve Him only."

So, little learned in human lore,
Nor skilled in disputation,
The simple peasant leans the more
Upon the great salvation;
In honest duty spends his days,
And, friendly with his neighbor,
He sends to God the highest praise
Through self-denying labor.

To him how dear the Sabbath rest!
How more than dear the Bible!
In childlike faith his life is blessed;
And vain were skeptic's libel,
To shake the trust, sublimely strong,
By which he holds on heaven,
And makes his lowly life a song
Each day in all the seven.





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