Robert William Service (Роберт Уильям Сервис)

Dedication

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!

1. Eighty Not Out
2. The Lure of Little Voices
3. The Quitter
4. My Ancestors
5. The Sunshine Seeks My Little Room

Lola Ridge (Лола Ридж) Dedication ("I would be a torch unto your hand")

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1869

Последние стихотворения

To English version