Joaquin Miller's Poems [in six volumes] |
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 | Joaquin Miller's Poems |  |
“For we promise so great and we gain so little;
For we promise so great of glory and gold
And we gain so little that the hands grow cold,
And the strained heart-strings wear bare and brittle,
And for gold and glory we but gain instead
A fond heart sicken'd and a fair hope dead.
For we promise so great of glory and gold
And we gain so little that the hands grow cold,
106
And for gold and glory we but gain instead
A fond heart sicken'd and a fair hope dead.
| Joaquin Miller's Poems | |