Days

Daughters 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 pleached 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.

by Ralph Waldo Emerson

Other poems of EMERSON (118)

Comments (12)

This poem seems to say that many of us should be searching for spiritual and peace of mind goals
Can anyone tell me who is the speaker, listener and the situation in this poem? =/
Hold's a religious tone, and one that suggests Emerson is exhausted by the practice of the mundane walk of the commoners life. For me the 'fillet' portion suggests that he is stripped raw to see before him the obvious pointlessness of it all.
so a beautiful poem.
dear poet when day offers you everything including the world, instead of just taking herbs and apples, you should have reached for the stars!
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