A land of wheat
Borne from one grain,
Fit for an oblation
Or to garner,
Reaped after the barley-harvest,
That firstfruit, yet
Whose heap of corn
Is cause of rejoicing.
Oh the vines!
And their wine is
New wine, to suit new skins
To cheer God and man.
The sweetness of the figs!
And their healing, while
The tree with the vine
Forms each man’s bower.
Blossom and bloom
The pomegranates, till
Comely as a woman’s temple,
The juicy fruits burgeon.
The people of the land
Will shine in the unction
Of the fatness
Of the olive tree.
While honey they suck
Out of the rock
Will make them persons
With bright eyes.
Borne from one grain,
Fit for an oblation
Or to garner,
Reaped after the barley-harvest,
That firstfruit, yet
Whose heap of corn
Is cause of rejoicing.
Oh the vines!
And their wine is
New wine, to suit new skins
To cheer God and man.
The sweetness of the figs!
And their healing, while
The tree with the vine
Forms each man’s bower.
Blossom and bloom
The pomegranates, till
Comely as a woman’s temple,
The juicy fruits burgeon.
The people of the land
Will shine in the unction
Of the fatness
Of the olive tree.
While honey they suck
Out of the rock
Will make them persons
With bright eyes.
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