Page:Thirty poems (IA thirtypoems00bryarich).pdf/127

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
SELLA.
121
They build, and to what quaint device they frame,Where sea and river meet, their stately ships;What flowers are in their gardens, and what treesBear fruit within their orchards; in what garbTheir bowmen meet on holidays, and howTheir maidens bind the waist and braid the hair.Here, on these hills, my father's house o'erlooksBroad pastures grazed by flocks and herds, but thereI hear they sprinkle the great plains with cornAnd watch its springing up, and when the greenIs changed to gold, they cut the stems and bringThe harvest in, and give the nations bread.And there they hew the quarry into shafts,And pile up glorious temples from the rock,And chisel the rude stones to shapes of men.
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.