When we count out our gold at the end of the day, And have filtered the dross that has cumbered the way; Oh! What were the hold of our treasury then Save the love we have shown to the children of men. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE QUARREL by KATHERINE MANSFIELD A WINTER NIGHT by SARA TEASDALE MINDEN HOUSE by WILLIAM BARNES |