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Robert W Service - My Masterpiece
Work rating: Low

It`s slim and trim and bound in blue;
Its leaves are crisp and edged with gold;
Its words are simple, stalwart too;
Its thoughts are tender, wise and bold.
Its pages scintillate with wit;
Its pathos clutches at my throat:
Oh, how I love each line of it!
That Little Book I Never Wrote.

In dreams I see it praised and prized
By all, from plowman unto peer;
It`s pencil-marked and memorized,
It`s loaned (and not returned, I fear);
It`s worn and torn and travel-tossed,
And even dusky natives quote
That classic that the world has lost,
The Little Book I Never Wrote.

Poor ghost! For homes you`ve failed to cheer,
For grieving hearts uncomforted,
Don`t haunt me now. . . . Alas! I fear
The fire of Inspiration`s dead.
A humdrum way I go to-night,
From all I hoped and dreamed remote:
Too late . . . a better man must write
That Little Book I Never Wrote.
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