One of the ones that Midas touched
Who failed to touch us all
Was that confiding Prodigal
The reeling Oriole —

So drunk he disavows it
With badinage divine —
So dazzling we mistake him
For an alighting Mine —

A Pleader — a Dissembler —
An Epicure — a Thief —
Betimes an Oratorio —
An Ecstasy in chief —

The Jesuit of Orchards
He cheats as he enchants
Of an entire Attar
For his decamping wants —

The splendor of a Burmah
The Meteor of Birds,
Departing like a Pageant
Of Ballads and of Bards —

I never thought that Jason sought
For any Golden Fleece
But then I am a rural man
With thoughts that make for Peace —

But if there were a Jason,
Tradition bear with me
Behold his lost Aggrandizement
Upon the Apple Tree —

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