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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
OATS WILD TURN MILD, by THRALL BUELL First Line: I think of my life as a planting Last Line: Last night I held my child. | |||
I think of my life as a planting, A sowing of seeds more or less; Some have yielded fine foliage, Others mere pottage -- a mess. I have also sown many an oat crop, The variety well known as wild, But those days are gone forever -- Last night I held my child. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ELEGY: THE LAMENT OF EDWARD BLASTOCK; FOR RICHARD ROWLEY by EDITH SITWELL ODE FOR THE BURIAL OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE FOREST MAID by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT RETREAT by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON THE BATTLE-SONG OF GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS by MICHAEL ALTENBURG A LAMENT FOR PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN |
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