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Robert W Service - WorkRobert W Service - Work
Work rating: Low


When twenty-one I loved to dream,     And was to loafing well inclined; Somehow I couldn`t get up steam     To welcome work of any kind. While students burned the midnight lamp,     With dour ambition as their goad, I longed to be a gayful tramp     And greet adventure on the road.     But now that sixty years have sped,     Behold! I toil from morn to night. The thoughts that teem into my head     I pray: God give me time to write. With eager and unflagging pen     No drudgery of desk I shirk, And preach to all retiring men     The gospel of unceasing work. And yet I do not sadly grieve     Such squandering of golden days; For from my dreaming I believe     Have stemmed my least unworthy lays. Aye, toil is best when all is said,     As age has made me understand . . . So fitly fold, when I am dead,     A pencil in my hand.
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