One counts the future that is his With steady fingers, Piling the years in row Like smooth round dollars, ready for his use. One flings it from him, out among the crowd, Gay showers of confetti, caring but To make men glad. And one holds close within his eager hand Tending it as a rare and delicate flower Lest rain or wind should mar its loveliness. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SAVORING THE PAST by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE UNDERGRADUATE KILLED IN BATTLE; OXFORD, 1915 by GEORGE SANTAYANA REAR-PORCHES OF AN APARTMENT-BUILDING by MAXWELL BODENHEIM EARLY RISING by JOHN GODFREY SAXE BLESSING THE LIGHTS by ALTER ABELSON PURSUIT AND POSSESSION by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH NOVEMB. 5. 1644 by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |