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