Orrick Johns: Dilemma


Orrick Johns

What though the moon should come  With a blinding glow, And the stars have a game  On the wood's edge, A man would have to still  Cut and weed and sow, And lay a white line  When he plants a hedge.
What though God  With a great sound of rain Came to talk of violets  And things people do, I would have to labor  And dig with my brain Still to get a truth  Out of all words new.