The jaquaranda blued the walk and lawn; The showered blossoms fell upon my head When, not to see their beauty crushed and dead, I rose to sweep the walk at shining dawn. From blue of earth to beaming dome were drawn My matins rising high above the tread Of traffic, roughly slow or quickly sped. While resting thus, there came a man of brawn; To sweep the daily waste, his humble task. We smiled and traded brooms. But, while he brushed The gutter far with mine, by heavy stroke I labored just a yard with his. I ask, That brotherhood's appeal may not be hushed: Before you blame another, try his yoke! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PINE-TREES AND THE SKY: EVENING by RUPERT BROOKE THE TASK: BOOK 4. THE WINTER EVENING by WILLIAM COWPER THE HUNTING OF THE SNARK: FIT 3. THE BAKER'S TALE by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON UNDERWOODS: BOOK 1: 21. REQUIEM by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON IN YOUTH IS PLEASURE by ROBERT WEVER |