Sun our father while I slept

You lifted like a field of corn

The smiling and the peaceful strength

Of those that are the race new born:

The infant future waked in you

Once more, and the world’s rich breast

Drank the day’s courage and lay down

In fearless and refreshing rest:

And while the russian field you raised

Dreams in the starflung shadow’s keep

You wake these backward lands to work:

Good work to do before we sleep.