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.’
England tasted the works of Robert Lee Frost before America as his works were published initially in England despite being an American Poet. He is highly regarded for his realistic depictions of rural life and his command of American colloquial speech which gifted him a Four time Pulitzer Prize winner for Poetry Frost became one of America’s rare “public literary figures, almost an artistic institution.” On July 22, 1961, Frost was named poet laureate of Vermont.