Richer Loam

Everyman dies every day Impure of heart for purchased gold; Two crusted pennies on his eyes— A smitch of comfort in the cold!

And he, imparadised in clay, Yields compost measured to his size, As sudden green outbreaks the mould In rough unhindered enterprise.

Belied, the once-wild heart he sold For cumbered coin he can't assay; The trade he staked on loaded dice Flung mortal dreams a world away.

Yet from him in his wintering, The tiniest of grasses spring!