Harvest Hymn.

We spray the fields and scatter the poison on the ground

So that no wicked wild flowers upon our farm be found

We like whatever helps us to line our purse with pence

The twenty-four-hour broiler-house and neat electric fence.

All concrete sheds around us and Jaguars in the yard

The Television, Lounge, and Deep-freeze, are ours from working hard.

We fire the fields for harvest the hedges swell the flame

The oak trees and the cottages from which our fathers came

We give no compensation the earth is ours today

And if we lose on arable the bungalows will pay

All concrete sheds around us the Jaguars in the yard

The Television, Lounge, and Deep-freeze, are ours from working hard.

John Betjeman.