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.