The woodsman loves the smell of pines, The mower in the sun Takes pleasure in the fragrant grass When the long swath is done. The ploughman strikes a precious jar Of ointment for his toil When all his furrowed field gives forth The clean smell of the soil. In May the apple orchards stand Pale priestesses in white; Each tree a laden censer bears, Fit for a queen's delight. Over the doorway of the house The honeysuckle clings. Its fragrance makes the little room Fit for the court of kings. But sweeter far than earth or grass, Than flower or blossomed tree, Are the odors that the South wind brings From the gardens of the sea. They tell of islands, starry skies, Of waves with crests of snow, Of leagues of shining waters where The great ships come and go. Pleasant the smell of new-mown hay, And sweet the flowering vine, But the odor that can stir the heart Is the keen scent of the brine. Cassia and aloes, nard and myrrh, Perfumes of Araby, I'd give them all for the winds that blow From the gardens of the sea. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONG OF TWO CROWS by HAYDEN CARRUTH GOAL by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON POSSUM SONG (A WARNING) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE YOUNG WARRIOR by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE ROAD TO AVIGNON by AMY LOWELL FOR THE NEW YEAR by EDWIN MARKHAM THE NEW APOCRYPHA: THE FIG TREE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |