Classic Poem

Friend, thou hast been a traveller bold;
Thine eyes, men say, have served thee well!
Now say if thou didst e'er behold
The wondrous sight that I shall tell.

A tree in perfect beauty growing —
To whose wide branches clusters cleave
Of fruit as rich and golden glowing
As that which tempted mother Eve.

A glorious plant of perfect beauty,
Its branches hung with clustered flowers,
Rich fruit like that which led from duty
Frail Eve mid Eden's happy bowers.

And grafted in that noble stock
Full many a cankered, crooked shoot,
As if the foster stem to mock,
Laden with harsh and bitter fruit.

Sight such as this no eye can see
For every graft partakes the juices,
Like saplings of its foster tree
And fruitage of like kind produces.

And grafted in this noble stem
Full many a cankered, withered shoot,
Which men would to the flames [?condemn]
Because they bear such worthless fruit.