Dedication
Robert William Service
In youth I longed to paint
The loveliness I saw;
And yet by dire constraint
I had to study Law.
But now all that is past,
And I have no regret,
For I am free at last
Law to forget.
To beauty newly born
With brush and tube I play;
And though my daubs you scorn,
I’ll learn to paint some day.
When I am eighty old,
Maybe I’ll better them,
And you may yet behold
A gem.
Old Renoir used to paint,
Brush strapped to palsied hand;
His fervour of a saint
How I can understand.
My joy is my reward,
And though you gently smile,
Grant me to fumble, Lord,
A little while!
Next 10 Poems
- Robert William Service : Dedication To Providence
- Robert William Service : Design
- Robert William Service : Detachment
- Robert William Service : Distracted Druggist
- Robert William Service : Divine Detachment
- Robert William Service : Divine Device
- Robert William Service : Dolls
- Robert William Service : Domestic Scene
- Robert William Service : Don't Cheer
- Robert William Service : Dram-shop Ditty
Previous 10 Poems
- Robert William Service : Decorations
- Robert William Service : Decadence
- Robert William Service : Death's Way
- Robert William Service : Death Of A Cockroach
- Robert William Service : Death In The Arctic
- Robert William Service : Death And Life
- Robert William Service : Days
- Robert William Service : Dark Truth
- Robert William Service : Dark Trinity
- Robert William Service : Dark Glasses