Explore "The Poetry of a Root Crop" by Charles Kingsley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Underneath their eider-robe / Russet swede and golden globe, / Feathered carrot, burrowing deep, / Steadfast wait in charmed sleep; / Treasure-houses wherein lie, / Locked by angels' alchemy, / Milk and hair, and blood, and bone, / Children of the barren stone; / Children of the flaming Air, / With his blue eye keen and bare, / Spirit-peopled smiling down / On frozen field and toiling town -- / Toiling town that will not heed / God His voice for rage and greed; / Frozen fields that surpliced lie, / Gazing patient at the sky; / Like some marble carven nun, / With folded hands when work is done, / Who mute upon her tomb doth pray, / Till the resurrection day.
Eversley, 1845.