Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MY TREASURES, by WILBUR DANIEL SPENCER


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MY TREASURES, by            
First Line: My jewels are the drops of dew
Last Line: While poor men own the earth.
Subject(s): Schools; Students


MY jewels are the drops of dew
That sparkle on the grass,
Or break into a thousand bits
When ruthless footsteps pass.

My gold bedecks the sunlit cloud,
Untouched by human hand;
My silver is the sleeping sea,
Unshadowed by the land.

My friend is every wooded hill,
And every singing brook;
For they are always true to me,
And wear a kindly look.

And yet how few would ever think
To count these treasures o'er;
But, dreaming oft of Satan's gold,
Would ask kind Heaven for more.

Co-heirs of Nature all may be,
Although of humble birth;
And yet, the miser hugs his gold,
While poor men own the earth.





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