In the long black furrows yet unsown a peasant pushed his plow.

I watched him go up and down, leaving a new black line on the bank for every turn.

Suddenly he began to sing, a rude plowman's song.
Only the melody reached me, but the meaning sprang up in my heart to fit it--a song of the earth and the hopes of the earth.

I sat a long time listening, looking, tense with attention.

I felt myself discovering things.