  AS up and down the fields I went, The fields of trembling wheat, Under the high blue heavens of June In summer’s poppied heat, I worked at homely common tasks Sharp stubble ’neath my feet. But I was not alone; I knew A comradeship most sweet. For as I gathered up the sheaves And bound the heavy grain, One whispered: “Yea, the world needs Food; Hungry it goes, and fain Am I to be its Bread, and give My Body for its pain. For this I lay in the dark earth Through sun and singing rain.” Into the vineyard I was sent, There One was keeping tryst. I cut the grapes—how beautiful Their bloomy amethyst! He said “This is my Blood, the Wine Poured for the world, ye wist. In wheat and grape ye work with me To make my Eucharist.” |
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