AFTER your pleasant morning travel You pause as at a wayside inn, And take with grateful hearts your breakfast Though served in dishes all of TIN. Then go, while years as hours are counted, Until the dial's hand at noon Invites you to a dinner table Garnished with SILVER fork and spoon. And when the vesper bell to supper Is calling, and the day is old, May love transmute the tin of morning And noonday's silver into GOLD. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SEMANTICS OF FLOWERS ON MEMORIAL DAY by BOB HICOK DOMESDAY BOOK: CHARLES WARREN, THE SHERIFF by EDGAR LEE MASTERS COLOGNE; EPIGRAM by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE SHERMAN by RICHARD WATSON GILDER NEUTRALITY LOATHSOME by ROBERT HERRICK |