by: Ralph Waldo Emerson
of Time, the hypocritic Days,
- Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes,
- And marching single in an endless file,
- Bring diadems and fagots in their hands.
- To each they offer gifts after his will,
- Bread, kingdom, stars, and sky that holds them all.
- I, in my pleachèd garden, watched the pomp,
- Forgot my morning wishes, hastily
- Took a few herbs and apples, and the Day
- Turned and departed silent. I, too, late,
- Under her solemn fillet saw the scorn.
MORE POEMS BY RALPH WALDO EMERSON
"Days" is reprinted from
Yald Book of American Verse. Ed. Thomas R. Lounsbury.
New Haven: Yale University Press, 1912.