“This Broken Field”
The world is a broken field By iron and hatred ploughed, And over the waste a leaden sky Deepens into dark cloud. No promise of harvest now. No furrows wait; but scars Gape cold and sterile take Seed of circling wars. IB hen will the sun of reason dawn Dispersing fear and pain? How can the Sower trust these fields To nurture golden grain? Can they grow green once more Beneath a radiant sky, Or bend before the harvest song Till, sheaves stand high? Only the desolate ground, Only the bitter yield— Will there be meadows again In this broken field? —Edna Davis Romig, in the Christian Century.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/DOM19390325.2.172.2.4
Bibliographic details
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Dominion, Volume 32, Issue 154, 25 March 1939, Page 1 (Supplement)
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111“This Broken Field” Dominion, Volume 32, Issue 154, 25 March 1939, Page 1 (Supplement)
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