Littell's Living Age/Volume 145/Issue 1876/The Poetry of a Root-Crop

their eider-robe Russet swede and golden globe, Feathered carrot, burrowing deep, Steadfast wait in charmèd sleep; Treasure-houses wherein lie, Locked by angels' alchemy, Milk and hair, and blood, and bone, Children of the barren stone; Children of the flaming Air, With his blue eye keen and bare, Spirit-peopled, smiling down On frozen field and boiling town — Boiling town that will not heed God his voice for rage and greed; Frozen fields that surpliced lie, Gazing patient at the sky; Like some marble carven nun, With folded hands when work is done, Who mute upon her tomb doth pray, Till the resurrection day.

Nov. 25 1845.