Spring Work

By Mary B. C. Slade

Plough the land, plough the land;
Hold the handles with each hand;
Furrows keep straight and deep,
Firm and steady stand.
Quickly turn around we may,
Ploughing back the other way;
Plough the land, plough the land—
Farmers understand.
Sow the seed, sow the seed,
Little birds will come and feed;
Never mind, you will find
Much they leave behind.
Soon the tender blades will spring,
Just as green as anything;
Sow the seed, sow the seed,
Pleasant work indeed.
Now we rest, now we rest,
After labor that is best;
First you know, green will show
Where the grain we sow.
Soon you’ll see a welcome sight,
Field so pretty, green, and bright.
Spring-time through, glad are you
Farmer’s work to do?

This Poem Features In: