Poems (Howard)/Peaches
Peaches.
Peaches, peaches! everywhere See the tempting baskets stand!Luscious fruit from Delaware, Ruddy cheeks from Maryland.
Orchards of the sunny South, In surprising plentitude, Furnish freely every mouth Appetizing, dainty food.
Peaches in the market stalls, Peaches vended on the street By the rogue who seldom hauls Peaches good enough to eat.
Dealers a bonanza reap From the blushing favorites, While their cry of "Peaches cheap!" Gathers in the silver bits.
What delicious nectar pure Velvet cuticles enclose! Pampered taste of epicure No more toothsome flavor knows.
There are peaches tough as vice— Acrid as a sharp retort! Dear were they at half their price— And, besides, of measure short.
Who is wise would rather tramp Weary miles than eat of these; Colic, cholera, and cramp Lurk beneath their indices.
What are peaches minus cream, Just enough to smother in? Till the juicy quarters seem Buried isles of coralline.
Tender freestones, mellow clings, Nectarines without a scar—Every one a picture brings Of redundant groves afar,
Where the languid natives lie Under peach-trees day by day, Visage looking to the sky— Picking peaches?—No! not they!
Waiting for the fruit to drop In each facial orifice! Surely, plan for gathering crop Never labor saved as this.
Peaches, peaches! everywhere Trains are carrying thick and fast! Luxuries that all may share Ere "peach-season" shall have passed.