The Acorn-Planter - novelonlinefull.com
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We sang that War would die, The anarch of our wild and wayward past.
We sang our brothers would come after, Turning desert into garden, Sowing friendship, and not hatred, Planting seeds instead of dead men, Growing men to manhood in the sun.
_(A band of Husbandmen appear, bearing fruit and sheaves of grain and corn.)_
{Husbandmen} Hail, Red Cloud!
The first planter!
The Acorn-Planter!
The harvests no more are red, but golden, We are thy children.
We plant for increase, Increase of wheat and corn, Of fruit and flower, Of sheep and kine, Of love and lovers; Rich are our harvests And many are our lovers.
{Red Cloud} Death is a stench in the nostrils, Life is beauty and joy.
The planters are ever brothers.
Never are the warriors brothers; Their ways are set apart, Their hands raised each against each.
The planters' ways are the one way.
Ever they plant for life, For life more abundant, For beauty of head and hand, For the voices of children playing, And the laughter of maids in the twilight And the lover's song in the gloom.
{All Voices} Hail, Red Cloud!
The first planter!
The Acorn-Planter!
The maker of life!
Hail! All hail!
The New Day dawns, The day of brotherhood, The day of man!
THE END
