The Poetry Corner

The Foolish Elm

By Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The bold young Autumn came riding along One day where an elm-tree grew. "You are fair," he said, as she bent down her head, "Too fair for your robe's dull hue. You are far too young for a garb so old; Your beauty needs colour and sheen. Oh, I would clothe you in scarlet and gold Befitting the grace of a queen. "For one little kiss on your lips, sweet elm, For one little kiss, no more, I would give you, I swear, a robe more fair Than ever a princess wore. One little kiss on those lips, my pet, And lo! you shall stand, I say, Queen of the forest, and, better yet, Queen of my heart alway." She tossed her head, but he took the kiss - 'Tis the way of lovers bold - And a gorgeous dress for that sweet caress He gave ere the morning was old. For a week and a day she ruled a queen In beauty and splendid attire; For a week and a day she was loved, I ween, With the love that is born of desire. Then bold-eyed Autumn went on his way In search of a tree more fair; And mob-winds tattered her garments and scattered Her finery here and there. Poor and faded and ragged and cold She rocked in her wild distress, And longed for the dull green gown she had sold For her fickle lover's caress. And the days went by and Winter came, And his tyrannous tempests beat On the shivering tree, whose robes of flame He had trampled under his feet. I saw her reach up to the mocking skies Her poor arms, bare and thin; Ah, well-a-day! it is ever the way With a woman who trades with sin.