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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508611" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Rhyme-Smith</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, I was born a lyric babe<br>(That last word is a bore -<br>It's only rhyme is astrolabe,"<br>Whose meaning I ignore.)<br>From cradlehood I lisped in numbers,<br>Made jingles even in my slumbers.<br>Said Ma: "He'll be a bard, I know it."<br>Said Pa: "let's hoe he will outgrow it."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alas! I never did and so<br>A dreamer and a drone was I,<br>Who persevered in want and woe<br>His misery to versify.<br>Yea, I was doomed to be a failure<br>(Old Browning rhymes that last with "pale lure"):<br>And even starving in the gutter,<br>My macaronics I would utter.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then in a poor, cheap book I crammed,<br>And to the public maw I tossed<br>My bitter Dirges of the Damned,<br>My Lyrics of the Lost.<br>"Let carping critic flay and flout<br>My Ditties of the Down and Out -<br>"There now," said I, "I've done with verse,<br>My love, my weakness and my curse."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then lo! (As I would fain believe,<br>Before they crown, the fates would shame us)<br>I went to sleep one bitter eve,<br>And woke to find that I was famous. . . .<br>And so the sunny sequels were a<br>Gay villa on the Riviera,<br>A bank account, a limousine, a<br>Life patterned dolce e divina.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, yes, my lyric flight is flighty;<br>My muse is much more mite than mighty:<br>But poetry has been my friend,<br>And rhyming's saved me in the end.</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> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=508611" data-title="Rhyme-Smith de Robert William Service" data-description="Oh, I was born a lyric babe (That last word is a bore - It's only rhyme is astrolabe," Whose meaning I ignore.) From cradlehood I lisped in numbers, Made jingles even in my slumbers. Said Ma: "He'll be a bard, I know it." Said Pa: &..."></div> </div> </div>
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