Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, GOLD, by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE


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GOLD, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Rub the sleep out of your eyes
Last Line: For the end of gold is dust.
Subject(s): Gold


Rub the sleep out of your eyes,
Judith. Run out to the cold;
Cowslips there unpack their gold;
In the wet new grass it lies

Slender, mutable, and gay,
In a flurry of the rain;
Run before it is in vain;
Gold grows scarcer every day.

Doubtless there is still enough
To last on from year to year
Wildly permanent and clear;
Cowslips are not of that stuff.

Rosalind had this gathering, too!
Run into the house and fill
Shelf and corner of the sill;
It will last as long as you.

Rosalind went. And cowslips must.
Girls and cowslips cannot stay
Longer than the required day;
For the end of gold is dust.





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