The Profanation

I saw the fields of golden grain
     Wave glorious in the summer air,
The ripe results of sun and rain, 
     Of sturdy toil and heavenly care.

One billowy sea of white and green, 
     Of bearded barley, wheat, and rye,
Stretched, islanded with woods between,
     Where the slow wains for ships went by.

O'er plumed ranks the noble maize
     A thousand emerald banners flung
To the warm light of autumn days, 
     And Plenty's victor anthem sung.

The glorious orchard's lavish limbs
     Bent with their wealth's delicious load—
A whole rich summer's dews and hymns, 
     And golden dawns within it glowed.

More beautiful than orient gems,
     And bursting full of luscious sweets,
The grapes surcharged their brittle stems, 
     And filled the air with odorous heats.

The peach, whose melting richness swelled
      The tinted velvet of its cheek, 
In Sunshine's ardent arm was held,
     A blushing bride too blest to speak. 

O heaven! how crowned is man to-day!
     How Winter's hounds may bark in vain,
He has such largess piled away
     Condensed of summer's sun and rain.

With what a taste of Eden's calm
     Eye, lip, and soul may revel now;
And harmless Luxury press the palm 
     Of Hygeia with a nuptial vow!

Profaned! profaned! O gracious God!
     Thy glorious bounty, racked and wrung,
Drips venom in a fiery flood,
     That blights and maddens brain and tongue.

So rich and sweet, so pure and strong, 
     So full of joy and life and power;
And now so terrible with wrong,
     So black with evil's thunder-shower!

The golden corn whose bannered host
     Rolled back invading Hunger's horde,
Is made her ally, prouder boast 
     Of death and woe than fire or sword.

The fevered blood of grape and peach
     Drops, deadlier than the Gorgon's head,
A rain of asps, with stings that reach 
     The life that is not nursed by bread.

O God! how fearful is their crime 
     Who so profane thy perfect gift!
How darkly steeped in blood and slime
     The treasures of their deadly thrift!.