Poem by Bliss Carman

The Gift

I said to Life, "How comes it,
With all this wealth in store,
Of beauty, joy, and knowledge,
Thy cry is still for more?

"Count all the years of striving
To make thy burden less,—
The things designed and fashioned
To gladden thy success!

"The treasures sought and gathered
Thy lightest whim to please,—
The loot of all the ages,
The spoil of all the seas!

"Is there no end of labor,
No limit to thy need?
Must man go bowed forever
In bondage to thy greed?"

With tears of pride and passion
She answered, "God above!
I only wait the asking,
To spend it all for love!"

1. I Loved Thee, Atthis, in the Long Ago
2. The Tent of Noon
3. Triumphalis
4. Threnody for a Poet
5. A Creature Catechism

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