Love’s Harvest is taken from: Cashel – Tales my Mother told me

 

If Love like wheat might ripen in the fields

We’d husband well the crop the sunlight yields.

We’d plough Love’s field with furrows straight and true

Sow seeds of Love with care, as lovers do.

Love’s harvest ripe we’d reap with scythes of gold

And sheaves of Love with golden thread enfold.

We’d cure Love sweet with beat of gentle breeze

From wings of sugared sylphs and honeyed bees.

With threshers’ happy skill we’d thrash Love’s shame

 

Then shake the husk of hate from Love’s gold grain;

Winnow jealous Love from anger’s                                                                                                                                                      aril chaff

 Making refined Love  life’s all sustaining  staff.

Love thus gleaned of envy’s selfish curse

Is fit seed-corn to seed Love’s universe.

Or original version: 

 

If Love like wheat might ripen in the fields

We’d husband well the crop the sunlight yields.

We’d plough Love’s field with furrows straight and true;

Sow seeds of Love with care, as lovers do.

Love’s harvest ripe we’d reap with scythes of gold;

And sheaves of Love with golden thread enfold.

We’d cure Love sweet, with beat of gentle breeze

From wings of sugared sylphs and honeyed bees.

With threshers’ happy skill, we’d thrash Love’s shame;

We’d shake the husk of hate from Love’s gold grain

Winnowing jealous Love away from anger’s chaff;

As refined Love is life’s sustaining staff.

Glean selfish Love ‘til clear of envy’s curse

To cast Love’s seed-corn across the universe.