From fall to spring the russet acorn, Fruit beloved of maid and boy, Lent itself beneath the forest, To be the children's toy. Pluck it now! In vain, -- thou canst not; Its root has pierced yon shady mound; Toy no longer -- it has duties; It is anchored in the ground. Year by year the rose-lipped maiden, Playfellow of young and old, Was frolic sunshine, dear to all men, More dear to one than mines of gold. Whither went the lovely hoyden? Disappeared in blessed wife; Servant to a wooden cradle, Living in a baby's life Still thou playest; -- short vacation Fate grants each to stand aside; Now must thou be man and artist, -- 'Tis the turning of the tide. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TRANSPOSITIONS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON REVAMPING THE VIRGIN by KAREN SWENSON THE SHPEHERD'S HOUR by PAUL VERLAINE AN APPEAL TO CATS IN THE BUSINESS OF LOVE; SONG by THOMAS FLATMAN AN ANCIENT PROPHECY by PHILIP FRENEAU HAUNTED HOUSES by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW |