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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508436" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Lost Shepherd</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah me! How hard is destiny!<br>If we could only know. . . .<br>I bought my son from Sicily<br>A score of years ago;<br>I haled him from our sunny vale<br>To streets of din and squalor,<br>And left it to professors pale<br>To make of him a scholar.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Had he remained a peasant lad,<br>A shepherd on the hill,<br>like golden faun in goatskin clad<br>He might be singing still;<br>He would have made the flock his care<br>And lept with gay reliance<br>On thymy heights, unwitting there<br>Was such a thing as science.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He would have crooned to his guitar,<br>Draughts of chianti drinking;<br>A better destiny by far<br>Than reading, writing, thinking.<br>So bent above his books was he,<br>His thirst for knowledge slaking,<br>He did not realize that we<br>Are worm-food in the making.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ambition got him in its grip<br>And inched him to his doom;<br>Fate granted him a fellowship,<br>Then graved for him a tomb.<br>&quot;Beneath my feet I can't allow<br>The grass to grow,&quot; he said;<br>And toiled so tirelessly that now<br>It grows above his head.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His honour scrolls shall feed the flame,<br>They mean no more to me;<br>His ashes I with bitter blame<br>Will take to Sicily.<br>And there I'll weep with heart bereft,<br>By groves and sunny rills,<br>And wish my laughing boy I'd left<br>A shepherd on the hills.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+William+Service">Robert William Service</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508436" data-title="Lost Shepherd de Robert William Service" data-description="Ah me! How hard is destiny!
If we could only know. . . .
I bought my son from Sicily
A score of years ago;
I haled him from our sunny vale
To streets of din and squalor,
And left it to professors pale
To make of him a scholar.

Had he remained a p..."></div>
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