A woman stands at the edge of a cornfield at night and speaks to a companion, half teasing him. She points out how tall and proud the rye looks against the sky, like knights with spears and pennants, and says it has more quiet dignity than the man beside her, who limps after her moaning for love. She adores the rye’s simple pride. Then her attention softens toward the fireflies drifting among the stalks—tiny green stars that seem to have come down to love the dark knights. They cheer her, and she imagines them as brilliant little souls going into battle with their proud partners. The mood is warm, playful, and a little wistful: she uses the beauty of the field to express both pleasure in nature and a tired disappointment with needy human affection.
Fireflies in the Corn — Summary
She speaks. Look at the little darlings in the corn! The rye is taller than you, who think yourself So high and mighty: look how the heads are borne Dark and proud on the sky, like a number of knights Passing with spears and pennants and manly scorn.
Knights indeed!--much knight I know will ride With his head held high-serene against the sky! Limping and following rather at my side Moaning for me to love him!--Oh darling rye How I adore you for your simple pride!
And the dear, dear fireflies wafting in between And over the swaying corn-stalks, just above All the dark-feathered helmets, like little green Stars come low and wandering here for love Of these dark knights, shedding their delicate sheen!
I thank you I do, you happy creatures, you dears Riding the air, and carrying all the time Your little lanterns behind you! Ah, it cheers My soul to see you settling and trying to climb The corn-stalks, tipping with fire the spears.
All over the dim corn's motion, against the blue Dark sky of night, a wandering glitter, a swarm Of questing brilliant souls going out with their true Proud knights to battle! Sweet, how I warm My poor, my perished soul with the sight of you!