Why! the happiest man I ever knew
Was born a beggar—and died one too.”
And so wisely nodding each yellow head
The sunflowers they listened to what was said,
As Nan in her careful and easy way,
In the old farmhouse kitchen that summer day,
Set a great and a mighty problem forth—
“Tell me the truth, John, how much am I worth?”
The question has stood since the world began
With Adam, a lone and a lonesome man.
Now the sunbeams kissing her golden hair,
Her cheeks, and her round arms dimpled and bare,
Seemed stamping a value of mighty wealth
On youth and love, and the bloom of health.
John looked, and looked, till his eyes grew dim,
Then tilted the hat with the worthless brim,
To hide what he would not have her see,
“You’re—you’re just worth the whole world, Nan,” said he.
“Then you are no beggar”—O sweet, bold Nan!
“You’re the whole world richer than any man.”