Reg Brewer - Windmill (1925)

I stand where weathers beat my breast,

Where every wind turns round my sails,

I stand where summer sunbeams rest,

And where the winter flings his gales.

Marfa, Texas. Courtesy of Library of Congress.

High on this hill I see below

The ripening ears of golden corn,

But when the winter zephyrs blow,

I look upon this scene, forlorn.

Magdalena, New Mexico. Courtesy of Library of Congress.

My arms, they seldom rest they turn

With every tidal wave of wind,

Deep in my bosom I discern

The grain that I must slowly grind.

I work from morning till the eve,

My years of toil unending are,

But quiet winds of night will leave

Me still beneath the evening star.

Sheridan County, Kansas. Courtesy of Library of Congress.

Lo, I stand out against the sky,

Where the horizoned purples leap,

And as the shades of evening die,

I slowly still my arms in sleep.

Baca County, Colorado. Courtesy of Library of Congress.