LET me confess, before I die, I sing for gold enough to buy A little house with leafy eyes That open to the Southern skies; Where I, in peace from human strife, Will wish no Lazarus brought to life. Around my garden I will see More wild flowers than are known to me; With those white hops, whose children are Big, heavy casks of ale and beer; And little apples, from whose womb Barrels of lusty cider come. Good food, and ale that's strong in brew, And wine, I'll have; clear water too, From a deep well, where it doth lie Shining as small as my own eye. And any friend may come to share What comfort I am keeping there; For though my sins are many, one Shall not be mine, when my life's done: A fortune saved by one that's dead, Who saw his fellows starve for bread. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GUNS AS KEYS: AND THE GREAT GATE SWINGS by AMY LOWELL ON COMMUNISTS; EPIGRAM by EBENEZER ELLIOTT A ST. HELENA LULLABY by RUDYARD KIPLING ON THE DEATH OF A FAIR INFANT DYING OF A COUGH by JOHN MILTON THE PIONEER'S FIELD by RICHARD BECK |