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Sitting in a porchway cool, Sunlight, I see, dying fast, Twilight hastens on to rule. Working hours have well-nigh past. Shadows run across the lands: But a sower lingers still, Old, in rags, he patient stands. Looking on, I feel a thrill. Black and high, his silhouette Dominates the furrows deep! Now to sow the task is set. Soon shall come a time to reap. Marches he along the plain To and fro, and scatters wide From his hands the precious grain; Muse I, as I see him stride. Darkness deepens. Fades the light. Now his gestures to mine eyes Are august; and strange; his height Seems to touch the starry skies.The poet has called the sower an ‘august personality’. Give reasons. Q2 : Compose 4-6 lines on a farmer. |
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Answer» Answer: have well-nigh past. Shadows run across the LANDS: But a sower lingers STILL, Old, in rags, he patient stands. Looking on, I feel a thrill. Black and high, his silhouette Dominates the furrows deep! Now to SOW the task is set. Soon shall come a time to reap. Marches he along the plain To and fro, and scatters wide From his hands the precious grain; Muse I, as I see him stride. Darkness DEEPENS. Fades the light. Now his gestures to mine eyes Are august; and strange; his height Seems to TOUCH the starry skies. The poet has called the sower an ‘august personality’. |
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