Classic Poem

Cantel

The knave had gathered much odd
And singular knowledge abroad
Regarding all flowers that are under the sun,
And bones that are under the sod.

The end of his life had begun,
And he felt that his travels were done,
BuThe smiled in finding the asphodel nod
At the root of minus one.

Then he willed his bones to the sod,
And his flowers to the fields thaThe trod,
And he bowed at the root of minus one
To the wind that is older than God.