The Fruit On A Higher Branch
A fruit dared me, but can't be reached by hand,
It hanged so far out, on a tender branch,
Seems it paled, from my eyeing, it could blanch,
Thought, I'll climb next day, with a stick or wand,
But that dusk, I bowed, as I head for ranch; But the way that wills could, oftentimes, change,
Though my aim, next day, was to climb again,
Other trees, I passed, did my muse sustain,
And before that fruit tree came into range,
With ease, a basketful, I did obtain; With wisdom to go on, seeming unwise,
I chose to head homeward, back where I came,
And then fancied building ships, make a name,
Anything, that myself, I might surprise,
When cards are laid, to fare well in life's game;