My soul is a dark ploughed field
  In the cold rain;
My soul is a broken field
  Ploughed by pain.
Where grass and bending flowers
  Were growing,
The field lies broken now
  For another sowing.
Great Sower when you tread
  My field again,
Scatter the furrows there
  With better grain.
Other Sara Teasdale songs:
all Sara Teasdale songs all songs from 1920