Read "A Youth Mowing" by D.H. Lawrence online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
THERE are four men mowing down by the Isar; / I can hear the swish of the scythe-strokes, four / Sharp breaths taken: yea, and I / Am sorry for what's in store.
The first man out of the four that's mowing / Is mine, I claim him once and for all; / Though it's sorry I am, on his young feet, knowing / None of the trouble he's led to stall.
As he sees me bringing the dinner, he lifts / His head as proud as a deer that looks / Shoulder-deep out of the corn; and wipes / His scythe-blade bright, unhooks
The scythe-stone and over the stubble to me. / Lad, thou hast gotten a child in me, / Laddie, a man thou'lt ha'e to be, / Yea, though I'm sorry for thee.