Would you sell your boy for a stack of gold?
Would you miss that hand that is yours to hold?
Would you take a fortune and never see
The man, in a few brief years, he’ll be?
Suppose that his body were racked with pain,
How much would you pay for his health again?

Is there money enough in the world today
To buy your boy? Could a monarch pay
You silver and gold in so large a sum
That you’d have him blinded or stricken dumb?
How much would you take, if you had the choice,
Never to hear, in this world, his voice?

How much would you take in exchange for all
The joy that is wrapped in that youngster small?
Are there diamonds enough in the mines of earth
To equal your dreams of that youngster’s worth?
Would you give up the hours that he’s on your knee
The richest man in the world to be?

You may prate of gold, but your fortune lies,
And you know it well, in your boy’s bright eyes.
And there’s nothing that money can buy or do
That means so much as that boy to you.
Well, which does the most of your time employ,
The chase for gold — or that splendid boy?

Edgar Guest