Monday, April 25, 2011

A Prelude to Lunch

Shortly before lunchtime it dawned on me,
What I had never noticed before, that
Humble sandwich, the vessel by which life
Is transferred from the cow, the fowl, and the
Lowly chaff of wheat into God-hewn tract,
Hath a power to consecrate—if we
Have tongue to taste—even the dreariest
Workday afternoon. The mayo, mustard,
Savory meats and hearty garden plants
Have flavors in themselves that interact
With the passions of man’s palate, and spur
Mere taste to evolve, by process unclear,
Into the poet’s loftiest genius.

Based on Wordsworth’s Prelude, 1805 version, lines 278-296

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