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...WHEN THE GREAT GRAY SHIPS COME IN [AUGUST 20, 1898] by GUY WETMORE CARRYL THE QUILTING by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE TEARES OF THE MUSES by EDMUND SPENSER PLUTARCH by AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS |