THE miser hurries through the town, His head is bent, he wears a frown; He hurries by through lane and street, He would make more gold to-day, Yet there is gold along the way Growing at his very feet! Dandelions round and gold— All the dollars I can hold Here are spread for me; I shall pluck them—one, two, three! Now I'm rich, what shall I buy? Give me, Sir, a piece of sky With the sunset shining through, Gold or crimson, silver blue; Give me, Sir, a bird that sings, Pulsing throat and busy wings, And the other summer things. I shall buy a road that goes To a land where no one knows, And a long, long summer day, Full of sunshine, birds, and play. Miser, miser, here's God's gold, Gather some before you're old! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...REGARDING CHAINSAWS by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE SACHEM OF THE CLOUDS (A THANKSGIVING LEGEND) by ROBERT FROST I'M GOING BACK TO SOMETHING by DAVID IGNATOW PENDULUM by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOMESDAY BOOK: ELENOR MURRAY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |