 The Plough, by Richard Henry Horne Red for LibriVox.org by Anne Chang The Plough, a landscaping barcha Above the ensemble swell of land Thou ceased the dawn's grave-orange hue With one pale streak like yellow sand And over that a vein of blue The air is cold above the woods All silent is the earth and sky Except with his own lonely moods The blackbird holds a colloquy Over the broad hill creeps a beam Like hope that gilds a good man's brow And now ascends the nostril stream Of stalwart horses come to plow He rigid plowmen bear in mind Your labour is for future hours Advance, spare not, nor look behind Plow deep and straight with all your powers End of poem This recording is in the public domain The Plough, by Richard Henry Horne Red for LibriVox.org by Anne Goldsmith September 21st, 2008, in Missouri The Plough, a landscape in Berkshire Above the ensemble swell of land Thou ceased the dawn's grave-orange hue With one pale streak like yellow sand And over that vein of blue The air is cold above the woods All silent is the earth and sky Except with his own lonely moods The blackbird holds a colloquy Over the broad hill creeps a beam Like hope that gilds a good man's brow And now ascends the nostril stream Of stalwart horses come to plow You rigid plowmen bear in mind Your labour is for future hours Advance, spare not, nor look behind Plow deep and straight with all your powers End of poem This recording is in the public domain The Plough, by Richard Henry Horne Red for LibriVox.org by David Fetterman The Plough, a landscape in Berkshire Above the ensemble swell of land Thou ceased the dawn's grave-orange hue With one pale streak like yellow sand And over that a vein of blue The air is cold above the woods All silent is the earth and sky Except with his own lonely moods The blackbird holds a colloquy Over the broad hill creeps a beam Like hope that gilds a good man's brow And now ascends the nostril stream Of stalwart horses come to plow You rigid plowmen bear in mind Your labour is for future hours Advance, spare not, nor look behind Plow deep and straight with all your powers End of poem This recording is in the public domain The Plough, by Richard Henry Horne Red for LibriVox.org by David Lawrence September 2008 in Brampton, Ontario The Plough, a landscape in Berkshire Above the ensemble swell of land Thou ceased the dawn's grave-orange hue With one pale streak like yellow sand And over that a vein of blue The air is cold above the woods All silent is the earth and sky Except with his own lonely moods The blackbird holds a colloquy Over the broad hill creeps a beam Like hope that gilds a good man's brow And now ascends the nostril stream Of stalwart horses come to plow You rigid plowmen bear in mind Your labour is for future hours Advance, spare not, nor look behind Plow deep and straight with all your powers End of poem This recording is in the public domain The Plough, by Richard Henry Horne Red for LibriVox.org by Ernst Patinama The Plough, a landscape in Berkshire Above yon somber swell of land Thou ceased the dawn's grave-orange hue With one pale streak like yellow sand And over that a vein of blue The air is cold above the woods All silent is the earth and sky Except with his own lonely moods The blackbird holds a colloquy Over the broad hill creeps a beam Like hope that gilds a good man's brow And now ascends the nostril stream Of stalwart horses come to plow You rigid plowmen bear in mind Your labour is for future hours Advance, spare not, nor look behind Plow deep and straight with all your powers End of poem This recording is in the public domain The Plough, by Richard Henry Horne Red for LibriVox.org by Kristin Hughes The Plough, a landscape in Berkshire Above yon somber swell of land Thou ceased the dawn's grave-orange hue With one pale streak like yellow sand And over that a vein of blue The air is cold above the woods All silent is the earth and sky Except with his own lonely moods The blackbird holds a colloquy Over the broad hill creeps a beam Like hope that gilds a good man's brow And now ascends the nostril stream Of stalwart horses come to plow You rigid plowmen bear in mind Your labour is for future hours Advance, spare not, nor look behind Plow deep and straight with all your powers End of poem This recording is in the public domain The Plough, by Richard Henry Horne Red for LibriVox.org by Leanne Howlett The Plough, a landscape in Berkshire Above yon somber swell of land Thou ceased the dawn's grave-orange hue With one pale streak like yellow sand And over that a vein of blue The air is cold above the woods All silent is the earth and sky Except with his own lonely moods The blackbird holds a colloquy Over the broad hill creeps a beam Like hope that gilds a good man's brow And now ascends the nostril stream Of stalwart horses come to plow You rigid plowmen bear in mind Your labour is for future hours Advance, spare not, nor look behind Plow deep and straight with all your powers End of poem This recording is in the public domain The Plough, by Richard Henry Horne Red for LibriVox.org by Logan McCammon The Plough, a landscape in Berkshire Above yon somber swell of land Thou ceased the dawn's grave-orange hue With one pale streak like yellow sand And over that a vein of blue The air is cold above the woods All silent is the earth and sky Except with his own lonely moods The blackbird holds a colloquy Over the broad hill creeps a beam Like hope that gilds a good man's brow And now ascends the nostril stream Of stalwart horses come to plow You rigid plowmen bear in mind Your labour is for future hours Advance, spare not, nor look behind Plow deep and straight with all your powers End of poem This recording is in the public domain