Ralph Waldo Emerson(1803–1882)
Days
Daughters of Time, the hypocritic Days,
Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes,whirling dancers
And marching single in an endless file,
Bring diadems and fagots6 in their hands.
To each they offer gifts after his will,
Bread, kingdom, stars, and sky that holds them all.
I, in my pleached7 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.hair hand