Where now the huts are empty,
Where never a camp-fire glows,
In an abandoned canyon,
A Gambler's Ghost arose.
He muttered there, “The moon's a sack
Of dust.” His voice rose thin:
“I wish I knew the miner-man.
I'd play, and play to win.
In every game in Cripple-creek
Of old, when stakes were high,
I held my own. Now I would play
For that sack in the sky.
The sport would not be ended there.
'Twould rather be begun.
I'd bet my moon against his stars,
And gamble for the sun.”
What The Ghost Of The Gambler Said
Vachel Lindsay
(1)
Poem topics: fire, never, rose, sky, sun, voice, ghost, game, dust, high, cripple, sport, moon, play, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about What The Ghost Of The Gambler Said poem by Vachel Lindsay
Best Poems of Vachel Lindsay