RISING from the murk and mould, What a wealth of cowslip-gold! Just as if the noon had sown, Affluent, its ingots there; Just as if the sun had thrown Blazing jewels from its zone, Radiantly fair. This my precious Ophir is; This Golconda's treasuries; Coins of unsurpassed dye, Mine to have and mine to hold! Croesus counts his coffers; I, Underneath the open sky, Count my cowslip-gold! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: OSCAR HUMMEL by EDGAR LEE MASTERS UP AT A VILLA - DOWN IN THE CITY by ROBERT BROWNING WITH A GUITAR, TO JANE by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY ELEGIAC SONNET: 2. WRITTEN AT THE CLOSE OF SPRING by CHARLOTTE SMITH ON SEEING BLENHEIM CASTLE by LUCY AIKEN PURIM, 1900 by ALICE D. BRAHAM THE LORDS' MASQUE: THE FIRST INVOCATION IN A FULL SONG by THOMAS CAMPION |