I am not rich enough, dear God, To give him things that should be free, A slope of purple violets, An apple tree. Blue eggs within a robin's nest, Young fern fronds curling tight, A brook that talks to smooth, white stones, Gold firefly light. May I create in him a thirst For beauty nothing can assuage Until he seeks the fields, some day, To claim his heritage. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SONG FOR THE SINGLE TABLE ON NEW YEAR'S DAY by ELIZABETH FRANCES AMHERST THE PEACE: TO HEAVEN ON A BEETLE by ARISTOPHANES THREE PASTORAL ELEGIES: TO THE READER (2) by WILLIAM BASSE A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 33 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT REMEMBRANCE by WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 40 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |