| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917. |
| |
| 45. At Harvest |
| | | By Joseph Campbell |
| |
| |
| EARTH travails, | |
| Like a woman come to her time. | |
| |
| The swaying corn-haulms | |
| In the heavy places of the field | |
| Cry to be gathered. | 5 |
| Apples redden, and drop from their rods. | |
| Out of their sheath of prickly leaves | |
| The marrows creep, fat and white. | |
| The blue pallor of ripeness | |
| Comes on the fruit of the vine-branch. | 10 |
| |
| Fecund and still fecund | |
| After æons of bearing: | |
| Not old, not dry, not wearied out; | |
| But fresh as when the unseen Right Hand | |
| First moved on Brí, | 15 |
| And the candle of day was set, | |
| And dew fell from the stars’ feet, | |
| And cloths of greenness covered thee. | |
| |
| Let me kiss thy breasts: | |
| I am thy son and lover. | 20 |
| |
| Womb-fellow am I of the sunburnt oat, | |
| Friendly gossip of the mearings; | |
| Womb-fellow of the dark and sweet-scented apple; | |
| Womb-fellow of the gourd and of the grape: | |
| Like begotten, like born. | 25 |
| |
| And yet without a lover’s knowledge | |
| Of thy secrets | |
| I would walk the ridges of the hills, | |
| Kindless and desolate. | |
| |
| What were the storm-driven moon to me, | 30 |
| Seed of another father? | |
| What the overflowing | |
| Of the well of dawn? | |
| What the hollow, | |
| Red with rowan fire? | 35 |
| What the king-fern? | |
| What the belled heath? | |
| What the drum of grouse’s wing, | |
| Or glint of spar, | |
| Caught from the pit | 40 |
| Of a deserted quarry? | |
| |
| Let me kiss thy breasts: | |
| I am thy son and lover. | |
| |
|
|
|
