Among the signs of autumn I perceive The Roman wormwood (called by learned men @3Ambrosia elatior@1, food for gods, -- For to impartial science the humblest weed Is as immortal once as the proudest flower --) Sprinkles its yellow dust over my shoes As I cross the now neglected garden -- We trample under foot the food of gods & spill their nectar in each drop of dew -- My honest shoes Fast friends that never stray far from my couch thus powdered countryfied Bearing many a mile the marks of their adventure At the post-house disgrace the Gallic gloss Of those well dressed ones who no morning dew Nor Roman wormwood ever have been through Who never walk but are @3transported@1 rather -- For what old crime of theirs I do not gather | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE FOR MEMORIAL DAY by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR A MAN BY THE NAME OF BOLUS by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY TWILIGHT SYMPHONY by LESLIE ANDERSON THE BIRDS: THE BUILDING OF CLOUDCUCKOOCITY by ARISTOPHANES THE ELDER'S WARNING; A LAY OF THE CONVOCATION by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN THE SPHINX AT MOUNT AUBURN by CHARLOTTE FISKE BATES PSALM 9, SELECTION by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |