Nature

XIII. One of the Ones That Midas Touched

XIII.

One of the ones that Midas touched,
Who failed to touch us all,
Was that confiding prodigal,
Pure grain alcohol.

So drunk, I disavow it
With badinage divine;
So dazzled, I mistake you
For a speaking mime.

A pleader, a dissembler,
An epicure, a thief,—
Betimes an oratorio,
An ecstasy in chief;

Invader of parties,
I cheat as I enchant
Of an entire attar
For my decamping wants.

The splendor of a Burmah,
A meteor of girls,
I’m lurching like an elephant
That slips on fallen pearls.

I never thought that Jason sought
For any golden fleece;
But then I am a rural lady,
With thoughts made for caprice.

But if there were a Jason,
Tradition suffer me
Behold his lost emolument:
Me asleep ’neath tree.

 

The actual version, about an oriole. I’ve left an unaltered stanza above.

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