Robert W Service - Hero WorshipRobert W Service - Hero Worship
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Said he: "You saw the Master clear;
By Rushy Pond alone he sat,
Serene and silent as a seer,
in tweedy coat and seedy hat.
you tell me you did not intrude,
(Although his book was in your hand,)
Upon his melancholy mood . . .
I do not understand.
"You did not tell him: `I have come
From o`er the sea to speak to you.`
You did not dare, your lips were dumb . . .
You thought a little zephyr blew
From Rushy Pond a touch of him
You`ll cherish to your dying day,
Perhaps with tears your eyes were dim . . .
And then - you went away.
"And down the years you will proclaim:
`O call me dullard, dub me dunce!
But let this be my meed of fame:
I looked on Thomas Hardy once.
Aye, by a stile I stood a span
And with these eyes did plainly see
A little, shrinking, shabby man . . .
But Oh a god to me!`"
Said I: "`Tis true, I scarce dared look,
yet he would have been kind, I`m sure;
But though I clutched his precious book
I feared to beg his signature.
Ah yes, my friend, I merit mirth.
You`re bold, you have the right to laugh,
And if Christ came again to earth
You`d cadge his autograph."
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