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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519180" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Sower</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519180" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">A brown sad-coloured hillside, where the soil,<br>Fresh from the frequent harrow, deep and fine,<br>Lies bare; no break in the remote sky-line,<br>Save where a flock of pigeons streams aloft,<br>Startled from feed in some low-lying croft,<br>Or far-off spires with yellow of sunset shine;<br>And here the Sower, unwittingly divine,<br>Exerts the silent forethought of his toil.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=519180" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Alone he treads the glebe, his measured stride<br>Dumb in the yielding soil; and tho' small joy<br>Dwell in his heavy face, as spreads the blind<br>Pale grain from his dispensing palm aside,<br>This plodding churl grows great in his employ;-<br>Godlike, he makes provision for mankind.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Sir+Charles+George+Douglas+Roberts">Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts</a></strong></div>

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