poem index

poet

Sam Foss

by this poet

poem
I.
     
One day through the primeval wood
A calf walked home as good calves should;
  
But made a trail all bent askew,
A crooked trail as all calves do.

Since then three hundred years have fled,
And I infer the calf is dead.


II.

But still he left behind his trail,
And thereby hangs my moral