By George Sterling

I brought the Apes my roses,
  Which did not seem to please:
Perhaps they wanted spinach,
Or corn, or garden peas.

The grey Apes scanned my roses
  With grave, pathetic eyes,
And waiting, I was anxious,
  For oh, the Apes are wise!

The grey Apes scanned my roses-
  Austere and lachrymose.
It may be they were puzzled:
  One doesn't eat a rose.