THE roadside bloom I saw last week, It nearly tipped me over; I 'most forgot forget-me-nots And buttercups and clover; 'Twas "Primary" day but I ignored The fierce politicasters, For all the countryside was bright With goldenrod and asters. Jest motor down there Shaftsbury way, If you distrust my story, And view those famed Walloomsack fields Which Fame has sold to Glory, And when you walk where went the guns And men and muster-masters, You'll wish that Molly Stark could see The goldenrod and asters. Your mind won't take no greenhouse turn, You won't be sedum silly; You'll long for no laburnum tree Or Honolulu lily; The feast the soul requires is spread And no excuse for fasters; You'll sup until the day declines On goldenrod and asters. What southern bloom is like to this! What tropic oleander, Or amaranth the ancients sought Along the swift Scamander! The earthquake ash that piles itself In Spanish Peaks and Shastas, Contains within its mass no seed Of goldenrod and asters. I tell you what, it lifts you up, This Autumn adoration; It lifts you up right through the air, Like spirit levitation; And when I'm old, jest get my chair And rig the legs with castors, And wheel me out where I can see The goldenrod and asters. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ROBIN REDBREAST by GEORGE WASHINGTON DOANE A DIRGE by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 114 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI MY MADONNA by ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE THE ZONE OF VENUS by ANTIPHANES |