Dust always blowing about the town, Except when sea-fog laid it down, And I was one of the children told Some of the blowing dust was gold. All the dust the wind blew high Appeared like gold in the sunset sky, But I was one of the children told Some of the dust was really gold. Such was life in the Golden Gate: Gold dusted all we drank and ate, And I was one of the children told, 'We all must eat our peck of gold.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GOLDEN NET by WILLIAM BLAKE NOEL: CHRISTMAS EVE, 1913 by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES ANTIQUITY OF FREEDOM by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT A FOREIGN RULER by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR AN ATHENIAN GARDEN by TRUMBULL STICKNEY TEARS by TUMADIR BINT IBN AL-SHARID AL-KHANSA |