The Ploughman- Patrick Kavanagh.

I turn the lea-green down
Gaily now,
And paint the meadow brown
With my plough.

I dream with silvery gull
And brazen crow.
A thing that is beautiful
I may know.

Tranquillity walk with me
And no care
O, the quiet ecstasy
Like a prayer.

I find a star- lovely art
In a dark sod
Joy that is timeless!
O heart that knows god!


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