'Ah, little boy! I see You have a wooden spade. Into this sand you dig So deep -- for what?' I said. 'There's more rich gold,' said he, 'Down under where I stand, Than twenty elephants Could move across the land.' 'Ah, little girl with wool! -- What are you making now?' 'Some stockings for a bird, To keep his legs from snow.' And there those children are, So happy, small, and proud: The boy that digs his grave, The girl that knits her shroud. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ONE OF THE LEAST OF THESE, MY LITTLE ONE' by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON HEALALL by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS DOROTHY Q; A FAMILY PORTRAIT by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES BOTHWELL: PART 1 by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN PSALM 52 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE IN MEMORY OF JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT |