 | Fra Cipolla, and other poems |  |
118
[Good friend, the world hath many sorts of men]
Good friend, the world hath many sorts of men,As many sorts of trees, and herbs, and flowers,
Which from the gifts that common are to all
Do each draw up their several differences;
And in the garden close beside the rose
Springs aconite, and in the wild wood too
The hemlock and the violet: some with love,
And some with juice medicinal, and some
With laughter, creeping poison, or quick death,
Where life flies gasping out as from a blow,
Speak to the heart of man, and yet they spring
From the same earth, aye, even in the same day:
Sunshine and winter, moonlight and the dew,
Are natural to all.
| Fra Cipolla, and other poems | |