I am not rich enough, dear God, To give him things that should be free, A slope of purple violets, An apple tree. Blue eggs within a robin's nest, Young fern fronds curling tight, A brook that talks to smooth, white stones, Gold firefly light. May I create in him a thirst For beauty nothing can assuage Until he seeks the fields, some day, To claim his heritage. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DARK-EYED GENTLEMAN by THOMAS HARDY IN YOUTH IS PLEASURE by ROBERT WEVER THE EPIPHANY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD AT THE VILLAGE DEPOT by ELIZABETH WILCOX BEASLEY A LAMENT by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES OATS WILD TURN MILD by THRALL BUELL |