The Harvest is the end of the world and the reapers are angels 1989
Oil on canvas 154.8x188cm
The harvest is the end of the world;
and the reapers are angels.
- Matthew 13 v39
I saw the cherubim one summerâs night
Reaping it seemed a ï¬eld of endless wheat.
I heard their voices through the fading light
Wild, strange and yet intolerably sweet.
The hour such beauty ï¬rst was born on earth
The dawn of judgment had that hour begun
For some would not endure loveâs second birth
Preferring their own darkness to that sun.
And still loveâs sun must rise upon our night
For nothing can be hidden from its heat;
And in that summer eveningâs fading light
I saw his angels gather in the wheat:
Like beaten gold their beauty smote the air
And tongues of ï¬ame were streaming in their hair.
From Fire Sonnets