Page:Modern Czech Poetry, 1920.djvu/71

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A joyous springtide shower of rain And God's first rainbow o'er the countryside! The sower lays the seed-cloth down And trustfully Paces the soil where he has sown.

Though frosts may come, yet shall the sacred tilth Be never marred. For its one statute is to burgeon and to thrive, To thrive though storm and sleet befall, Defying all.

The worthy grandsires warm them by the chimney-side And ancient wisdom, ancient ways they ponder o'er And ancient weather-lore. “The Months” (1915—18).