The purple asters bloom in crowds
In every shady nook,
And ladies' eardrops deck the banks
Of many a babbling brook.
Autumn. E.G. EASTMAN.
Graceful, tossing plume of glowing gold,
Waving lonely on the rocky ledge;
Leaning seaward, lovely to behold,
Clinging to the high cliff's ragged edge.
Seaside Goldenrod. C. THAXTER.
The aster greets us as we pass
With her faint smile.
A Day of Indian Summer. S.H.P. WHITMAN.
Along the river's summer walk,
The withered tufts of asters nod;
And trembles on its arid stalk
The hoar plume of the golden-rod.
And on a ground of sombre fir,
And azure-studded juniper,
The silver birch its buds of purple shows,
And scarlet berries tell where bloomed the sweet wild-rose!
Last Walk in Autumn. J.G. WHITTIER.
FOOL.
The right to be a cussed fool
Is safe from all devices human,
It's common (ez a gin'l rule)
To every critter born of woman.
The Biglow Papers, Second Series, No. 7. J.R. LOWELL.
No creature smarts so little as a fool.
Prologue to Satires. A. POPE.
The fool hath planted in his memory
An army of good words; and I do know
A many fools, that stand in better place,
Garnished like him, that for a tricksy word
Defy the matter.
Merchant of Venice, Act iii. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.
A limbo large and broad, since called
The Paradise of fools, to few unknown.
Paradise Lost, Bk. III. MILTON.
Who are a little wise the best fools be.
The Triple Fool. J. DONNE.