The cornfields rise above mankind,
Lifting white torches to the blue,
Each season not ashamed to be
Magnificently decked for you.
What right have you to call them yours,
And in brute lust of riches burn
Without some radiant penance wrought,
Some beautiful, devout return?
The Cornfields
Vachel Lindsay
(1)
Poem topics: beautiful, lust, blue, white, rise, return, Season, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about The Cornfields poem by Vachel Lindsay
Best Poems of Vachel Lindsay