If I grubbed out some roots, those spared could grow.
And if I pruned out perfect blooming sprays,
Those kept had air and space, the rest might go.
However tall and fair, the ship that's moored
Will never bring home rich brocades and tea;
But if it someday reaches Samarcand,
Must wrench its anchors and put out to sea.
__Margaret E. Haughawout.
Margaret E. Haughawout
(Pittsburg, Kansas: __. 1929)