"See that goldenrod! Isn't it handsome?" "Goldenrod? No, I don't want to see it; Goldenrod is the harbinger of dead leaves, Withered grass, brown hillsides And snow-capped summits. No, I don't care to see it. And, anyway, This must be an early variety of the plant, For everybody knows goldenrod shouldn't come So early in July as now. "Why man, think. Strawberry season Is barely past. Raspberries Are newly turning; and here are black-caps Just ripened beside the road. Columbine, indeed, has podded And gone to seed, But delphinium is yet showing heavenly blue, And gladiolus are unsheathing calico colors On the hill. "Goldenrod, indeed! Who thinks of decay, of seed-time and harvest, Of fall winds and frost-patterns, Of bifrost bridges and hel-shoes, When summer and sunshine are here. Time enough for goldenrod thoughts When corn is in the crib and potatoes in the cellar!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MACGREGOR'S GATHERING by WALTER SCOTT APRIL, FR. LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE FOUR SEASONS by PHILIP AYRES OENONE by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN LINES UNDER THE PICTURE OF MISS BURNS by ROBERT BURNS TO A CHILD by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR THREE EPISTLES TO G. LLOYD ON A PASSAGE FROM HOMER'S ILIAD: 3 by JOHN BYROM |