I Cautious, Scanned My Little Life

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I cautious, scanned my little life-
I winnowed what would fade
From what would last till Heads like mine
Should be a-dreaming laid.

I put the latter in a Barn-
The former, blew away.
I went one winter morning
And lo-my priceless Hay

Was not upon the “Scaffold”-
Was not upon the “Beam”-
And from a thriving Farmer-
A Cynic, I became.

Whether a Thief did it-
Whether it was the wind-
Whether Deity's guiltless-
My business is, to find!

So I begin to ransack!
How is it Hearts, with Thee?
Art thou within the little Barn
Love provided Thee?