Classic Poem

Ear of corn — Bounty OF N ATURE ,

Look, traveler, what name you this, that droops
In wondrous heaviness upon the stalk?
Look, traveler, old Canaan hath no gift
That equals this, to speak its M AKER'S praise!
Abounding land! how lost to early truth
When E AR OF C ORN is made the test of doom!
The rapid Jordan makes impetuous course, —
The lily specks the hills where Jephthah dwelt, —
The oleander scents the valley sweet
As in his time, — they wake the gloomy thought
Of S HIBBOLETH , the master key of doom!