HONEY DRIPPING FROM THE COMB |
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HONEY DRIPPING FROM THE COMB
How slight a thing may set one`s fancy drifting
Upon the dead sea of the Past!--A view--
Sometimes an odor--or a rooster lifting
A far-off "OOH! OOH-OOH!" And suddenly we find ourselves astray
In some wood`s-pasture of the Long Ago--
Or idly dream again upon a day
Of rest we used to know. I bit an apple but a moment since--
A wilted apple that the worm had spurned,--
Yet hidden in the taste were happy hints
Of good old days returned.-- And so my heart, like some enraptured lute,
Tinkles a tune so tender and complete,
God`s blessing must be resting on the fruit--
So bitter, yet so sweet!
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