Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ASPHALT: A PARABLE, by AMOS RUSSEL WELLS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ASPHALT: A PARABLE, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: A christian substance this
Last Line: But macadamed for aye!
Subject(s): Asphalt; Concrete; Pavements


A Christian substance this,
Whose sacrificial bliss
Is firmly to outspread
A path for men to tread,
Whose joy it is to know
The way the many go,
And make the footing there
Enduring, smooth, and fair.

Doubtless the asphalt feels
Those myriad grinding heels,
The pounding horses' feet,
The traffic of the street,
The picks of fickle men
That tear it up again, --

The cruel frosts that crack
Its winter-stiffened back,
The furnace of the sun
When winter's days are done;
Yet bears a cheerful heart
For that inferior part,
And heals the winter's woe
With summer's tarry flow!

Right is your rede to us,
Brother bituminous!
Where human sharks contend
Each for a glutton's end,
Where men ignoble fight
Each for his petty right,
Where men like leeches live
Only to get, not give, --

Oh, for a second flood,
Of black, asphaltic mud,
To sweep them all away
From out the groaning day,
To make a pavement meet
For more unselfish feet, --
Not damned, I mildly pray,
But macadamed for aye!





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