11-22-2013, 02:12 AM
Oft I think to way back when
When I stood full bodied behind the plow
And till'd the dirt of virgin land
And pulled ripen'd fruit from laden boughs
It was cold and bitter in winter
So I stayed three months indoors
I sat so long upon my chair
From my shoes, roots grew to the floor
Now, dusted are the days of my youth
Squandered and spoilt in the fields
The green seeds I sown long ago
Are molding and giving no yield
My bones are old, my skin is taut
To work-worn hands grant deserved rest
Until at last I meet Him again
And receive my bounty for this unholy test.
When I stood full bodied behind the plow
And till'd the dirt of virgin land
And pulled ripen'd fruit from laden boughs
It was cold and bitter in winter
So I stayed three months indoors
I sat so long upon my chair
From my shoes, roots grew to the floor
Now, dusted are the days of my youth
Squandered and spoilt in the fields
The green seeds I sown long ago
Are molding and giving no yield
My bones are old, my skin is taut
To work-worn hands grant deserved rest
Until at last I meet Him again
And receive my bounty for this unholy test.