UNDER our lead we lie <br />While the sun and the snow go by, <br />And our shrouds lie close, lie close, <br />Like the leaves of a shut white rose <br />That knows not what summer knows <br />Before it is time to die. <br /> <br /> <br />You, in the sun, up there <br />Where the wild thyme scents the air; <br />Is it warm still--and sweet and gay <br />Up there in the wide blue day? <br />Do you pity us, shut away <br />From the fields where the flowers are fair? <br /> <br /> <br />Pity us here? shut in <br />In the dark, where the flowers begin? <br />The coins lie light on our eyes, <br />In our empty hands is the prize, <br />The treasure that fools and wise <br />Are breaking their hearts to win!<br /><br />Edith Nesbit<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-treasure-8/
