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Robert Lee Frost (Роберт Ли Фрост)


A Peck of Gold


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 god 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.’



Robert Lee Frost's other poems:
  1. Maple
  2. Fragmentary Blue
  3. The Egg and the Machine
  4. To Earthward
  5. Bond and Free


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