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Saturday on the Farm
by
Edwin C. Ranck


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 'Tis Saturday morn and all is bright
        By nature's own endowing;
    The sun is fiercely giving light,
        And only me--
            Plowing.

    Across the river I hear the sound
        Of a boatman slowly rowing;
    I have no time to fool around,
        Especially when I'm--
            Hoeing.

    And when the dinner hour has come,
        And thoughts of work are fleeting,
    I only hear the insects hum,
        Because I'm busy--
            Eating.

    At night when all things are at rest,
        Safe in Old Morpheus' keeping,
    No troubles do my mind infest,
        For I am soundly--
            Sleeping.

This poem is in the public domain.

 

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Edwin Carty Ranck was born in 1879 in Lexington, Kentucky. His father was a writer and newspaper editor. After attending Harvard, Edwin followed in his father's footsteps and became a journalist, writing at one point for the New York Times.


New comments are closed for now.
69Dorcas:
Weariness.
Posted 06/29/2012 07:08 AM
marenomitchell:
Has charm that does good, and no harm!
Posted 06/09/2012 03:23 PM
Buckner14:
Fun!
Posted 06/09/2012 10:47 AM
nancy scott:
Some information about this poet if you also try E.C. Ranck or Carty Ranck, but nothing pops up quickly so you have to dig. Born 1879, hung out in Kentucky, wrote about the Civil War, and many, many of his poems are available online.
Posted 06/09/2012 07:06 AM


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