George Willis Cooke, comp. The Poets of Transcendentalism: An Anthology. 1903.
The Barberry-BushJones Very (18131880)
T
Waits till the frost has turned its green leaves red,
Its sweetened berries will thy palate suit,
And thou mayst find e’en there a homely bread;
Upon the hills of Salem scattered wide,
Their yellow blossoms gain the eye in Spring;
And straggling e’en upon the turnpike’s side,
Their ripened branches to your hand they bring;
I ’ve plucked them oft in boyhood’s early hour,
That then I gave such name, and thought it true;
But now I know that other fruit as sour
Grows on what now thou callest Me and You;
Yet wilt thou wait the autumn that I see,
Will sweeter taste than these red berries be.