The Everlasting Mercy

(Found here)

O WET red swathe of earth laid bare,

O truth, O strength, O gleaming share,

O patient eyes that watch the goal,

O ploughman of the sinner’s soul,

O Jesus, drive the coulter deep

To plough my living man from sleep.

        *          *          *          *          *

I kneeled there in the muddy fallow,

I knew that Christ was there with Callow,

That Christ was standing there with me,

That Christ had taught me what to be,

That I should plough, and as I ploughed,

My Saviour Christ would sing aloud,

And as I drove the clods apart

Christ would be ploughing in my heart

Through rest-harrow and bitter roots,

Through all my bad life’s rotten fruits.

O Christ who holds the open gate,

O Christ who drives the furrow straight,

O Christ, the plough, O Christ, the laughter

Of holy white birds flying after,

Lo, all my heart’s field red and torn,

And Thou wilt bring the young green corn,

The young green corn divinely springing.

The young green corn for ever singing:

And when the field is fresh and fair

Thy blessed feet shall glitter there.

And we will walk the weeded field,

And tell the golden harvest’s yield,

The corn that makes the holy bread

By which the soul of man is fed,

The holy bread, the food unpriced,

Thy everlasting mercy, Christ,

Thy share will jar on many a stone,

Thou wilt not let me stand alone,

And I shall feel (Thou wilt not fail)

Thy hand on mine upon the hale.

~John Masefield