OCT IN THE FIELDS.
The*ittlc cares that fretted me, I lost them yesterday, Among the fields above the sea. Among the winds at play, Among the lowing of the herds. The rustling of the trees. Among the singing of the birds, The humming of the bee's. The foolish fears of what might pass, I cast them all away Among the clover-scented grass, Among the new-mown hay, Among the husking of the corn Where drowsy poppies nod. Where ill thoughts die and good are born— Out in the fields with God. —E. B. Browning.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/WHIRIB19261118.2.6
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White Ribbon, Volume 32, Issue 376, 18 November 1926, Page 4
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93OCT IN THE FIELDS. White Ribbon, Volume 32, Issue 376, 18 November 1926, Page 4
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