Once on a time, no matter when, I thought I'd be a rhymer; A poet that the world would praise, No common jingle chimer! I though the praise of men would give Contentment, rest and peace, And even riches, too, I thought And all my cares release. And so with eagerness I sought The Muse in woodland shades; In sun and shadowed checkered dells And flower-scented glades. I stood beside clear, limpid streams, And on the restless sea I gazed, but ah, no Muse was there, Leastwise not there for me. And so I wandered back again, Back to my own heartstone; By Muse of poesy unfired But by experience grown. Not always the goal we climb for Is it possible to attain, Not always the thing we wish for Are we able to obtain. The heights that famous men have reached We all may hope to reach; But often the striving for them Will a noble lesson teach. We all were made for some purpose, For a noble purpose, too; But deeds that the world considers great May not be ours to do. Then let us ever strive to be Contented with our state; Nor think that our enjoyment lies Alone in being great. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CORPORATE ENTITY by ARCHIBALD MACLEISH DOMESDAY BOOK: THE GOVERNOR by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE BALLAD OF LOVELY LADYES OF LONG AGOE by FRANCOIS VILLON HER MERRIMENT by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES TWO RIVERS by RALPH WALDO EMERSON BEDTIME by FRANCIS ROBERT ST. CLAIR ERSKINE FOR MY OWN TOMBSTONE by MATTHEW PRIOR |