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Robert W Service - The Great Recall
Work rating: Medium

I`ve wearied of so many things
Adored in youthful days;
Music no more my spirit wings,
E`en when Master play.
For stage and screen I have no heart,
Great paintings leave me cold;
Alas! I`ve lost the love of Art
That raptured me of old.

Only my love of books is left,
Yet that begins to pall;
And if of it I am bereft,
I`ll read no more at all.
Then when I am too frail to walk
I`ll sit out in the sun,
And there with Nature I will talk . . . 
Last friend and dearest one.

For Nature`s all in all to me;
My other loves are vain;
Her bosom brought me forth and she
Will take me back again.
So I will let her have her way,
For I`ve a feeling odd,
Whatever wiser men may say,
That she herself is GOD.
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